


Let There Be Night

by lemon_shark



Series: London Loves [2]
Category: Blur (Band), British Singers RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love Triangles, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Mystery, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Homophobia, Romance, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23258743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_shark/pseuds/lemon_shark
Summary: Ever since that horrible night, Graham has turned his back on the occult and on one of the few people he cared about.Reverting back to old habits, both harmful in different ways, he isolates himself once again and tries to get his life back to a sense of normalcy. Graham wants to move on; he wants to forget about magick and Damon.As much as he wants to leave the craft behind, it's not through with him. Neither are Damon and Alex.
Relationships: Damon Albarn/Graham Coxon, Damon Albarn/Justine Frischmann, Graham Coxon/Alex James
Series: London Loves [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639060
Comments: 93
Kudos: 111





	1. leave me alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you're all healthy and sane during these chaotic times. Since I'm now currently not able to work due to the current pandemic, it gave me a lot of free time to add the finishing touches to the first few chapters of this story. I'm so glad to be continuing this fic and I hope you all enjoy this next part!
> 
> Chapter title is from New Order.

Graham arose to the sound of rain; a sound that meant tranquility.

The first thing he saw when his vision came into slight focus was the drops that slid down his windows and the noise of street life outside. Quiet, and still. All he needed was some Smiths and he would be a walking cliché.

No black masses behind him, no screams of his name. Only the rain and his breathing.

Peace was something he would never take for granted again.

It was a Saturday morning and he had nothing planned for today; he originally did, a short phone call to his friends from the art department put an end to that. He heard their disappointment on the other end of the line and was not bothered as he normally would be.

Graham had no desire to interact with the world today. 

He pulled the sheets over his head and saw only blue; the color that he became acquainted with more recently in his life. Graham's sheets were blue, his shirt was blue, even the purple bruises scattered on his legs looked blue. A color that brought out conflicted feelings. 

_His eyes are a beautiful kind of blue. The color of the sea after a thunderstorm._

Graham closed his eyes and imagined himself on a small boat on the sea. He heard the rain beating against the roof and gentle waves rocking the boat. It was almost as if the waves were rocking him back to sleep. 

He remembered the smell of sea salt and the freezing water when he went to the beach earlier this month. The vastness of the water amazed him; he enjoyed how calm it was to descend himself into it. How easy it would have been to let the tide take him and carry him off to somewhere new. 

Maybe it wouldn't have taken him anywhere at all. It could have pulled him down to the seafloor and let him see the world below. He could let himself go and drift along with along the fish and many other creatures. 

He could never rise again to the surface if he wanted to.

There had to be some spell that could make him do that. How great it would be to be underwater and not worry about drowning? But he wasn't interested in anything related to witchcraft. Not anymore. 

Another hour passed until Graham snapped out of his daydreams, he tugged the blanket off him and got out of bed. 

He went to his kitchen and began to make coffee, machine making small hisses and bubbles as he sat down at his small dining table. It was nearly one in the afternoon; as much as he would like to stay in bed, he needed to exercise his muscles somehow.

Rubbing a bruise just below his knee, he hissed slightly when he felt the quick sharp pain as he pulled his hand back. It was still fresh from yesterday when he was out skateboarding. He touched another bruise that was more greenish on his thigh, it was healing up nicely at least.

He reached for his carton of cigarettes near his ashtray, fishing out one and lighting it up with his lighter, relaxing against the wooden chair as he inhaled the nicotine.

Graham stared at the ceiling and thought of nothing as he waited for the machine to stop brewing. It was times like this when he needed to clear his mind. Being in his room too much had taken its toll on his mental health. He knew separation from the outside wasn’t healthy for him, he did it anyway. 

It was a breeding ground for the unwelcoming thoughts, the ugly truths that bubbled up to the surface of the area of his mind. The memories that brought him pain replaying again.

Getting up from his seat, he padded over to his landline and pressed the voicemail button. The automatic monotone voice informed him that he had no new messages. He had already checked the few that he had from yesterday, the one from work telling him to come in earlier tomorrow due to staff shortage, and the one from his mother thanking him for visiting this week. 

There were none from Damon anymore, there hadn't been any for quite a while. 

_Graham, I know you don't want to see me. Please talk to me at the very least. You can shout all you want, I just need you to listen,_ The voicemail pleaded.

Another day went by.

_Graham, I tried to see you today, but you weren't home. I still want to speak with you._

More days came and went.

_I'm sounding like a broken record. I know you're ignoring me, I don't want things to end like this. You can't just shut me out._

_Yes, I can._ Graham thought.

After that, he had lost count of how many messages that he listened to and calls he didn't answer.

It had been months since he and Damon had spoken, but it felt like years had passed. 

It was in the third week of their separation that Damon finally gave up reaching out to him, he probably figured out that there was no excuse for his actions. Perhaps it was Justine that convinced him to stop. Either reason would be believable. 

Whatever sadness or anger that had resided in him from had now gone. All that was left was a dull, numb feeling in the center of his chest. That said feeling had remained in that spot for the past few months and it wouldn't be going away anytime soon by the looks of it.

Graham didn't care, either way, he didn't care about much these days.

Ever since that night when he encountered the killer; he had entered a state of limbo. Stuck between being free and being trapped.

Much to his misfortune, the killer he managed to fight off had gotten away. By the time the Gallaghers rallied the other witches and led them to the road where they left his unconscious body, it was too late. All that was left was a small puddle of blood and shattered glass.

When Dave had rung him up to inform him the next day, Graham didn't leave his room for the next twenty-four hours. His only company being Alex who played music with him, brought food and the occasional beer in an effort to loosen his nerves. It somewhat worked. He was safe awake and running for his life again in his sleep.

The following week was chaos; witches all over the city were searching high and low for the killer. Even the werewolves and shifters volunteered to help. The vampires were uneager to contribute and Graham didn't blame them honestly. 

The community was divided; many believe it wasn't a vampire and many wanted more evidence. Even though the Gallaghers had retracted their previous statements, others did not want to hear it. They refused to believe anything other than their own opinion. 

Alex didn't appear too troubled, merely annoyed and frustrated that the madman wasn't caught. He insisted on him to not travel alone at night anymore and Graham did not argue with him on that decision.

Since that night, he immediately went back home after nightfall. The minute the sun started to set, Graham would make his way back home. Front door locked and bolted; windows shut, and everything checked twice before he settled in for the night. 

The optimistic side of his brain hoped the killer had died of his injuries, died in a ditch somewhere in the country. The realistic side believed the killer was alive and was recuperating. Waiting to get his next victim; maybe waiting to find Graham and finish him off. 

London was a large city; it didn't mean that there was no way he would be found. He wasn't sure if he would ever be ready when or if that day arrives. It was best that he would spend his days alone and away from any threat.

He would be alone, most of the time. Until Alex would stop by.

The vampire would bring food, drinks, and movies from the local video store to watch when he wasn't in the mood to go out partying. Alex did start increasing his visits over time, Graham figured that he needed a break from the pubs. Surely it couldn't be that Alex wanted to spend more time with him. 

The visits were postponed for now; Alex was currently in France on holiday and he'd been there for over two months already. He originally wanted to go for Christmas, Alex changed his plans for reasons unexplained. 

Graham tried not to miss him, he was unable to, unfortunately.

He had gotten used to Alex's presence in his life, even though it felt like he was being his caretaker sometimes. 

_I'm just looking out for you, mate._ It was Alex's only response to his complaint. If he could even call it that.

Alex still kept his promise by calling him a few times a week, telling him stories of what he'd been up to and checking up on him. 

_At least I'm not dead, am I?_ Graham badly joked in one conversation. 

Alex didn't find that funny.

_You almost were,_ Alex flatly reminded him.

_Sorry,_ Graham apologized demurely. 

_I'll be back soon,_ Alex continued with a tired sigh, Graham heard the rustling of paper and a lighter flicking on the other end of the phone. _Probably in a few days once I'm replenished enough._

_You've been taking too much sun, haven't you?_ Graham questioned.

_You know I have,_ Alex responded nonchalantly. Graham could picture the playful grin on his face.

_Do I need to remind you what happens if you do?_ He scolded.

_I'm fine, not to worry,_ Alex insisted. _Don't fuss about me, you should be focusing on yourself._

_I'm fine, not to worry,_ Graham mimicked. 

_Don't be smart,_ Alex took his turn to scold him, his firmness that wasn't really all that firm.

Graham laughed quietly. _Get some sleep, you dolt._

_As you wish,_ Alex assented warmly.

The coffee machine stopped brewing with a few short beeps, bringing Graham back to reality and he moved to shut off the machine, carefully removing the jug by the handle and poured the boiling liquid into a Mr. Muddle mug. Letting it rest for a minute, he switched on the radio, tuning from station to station until he was satisfied with the music choice.

He placed his cigarette in his mouth to hold and took out sugar from the spice cabinet, pouring three scoops, the sound of his spoon clinking against the mug and New Order filling the silence.

Taking his steaming mug back to the table, he opened the window and allowed the fresh rain-scented air to enter his kitchen and the music of the outside world. He sat back down and sipped from his coffee as he watched the streets, he saw cars drive by and airplanes in the sky as he sat.

He shivered as he felt the cool November wind against his skin, a taste of what winter would bring in the following month. Peering out the window, he could see discarded newspapers and leaves dancing in the wind. People bundled up with coats and scarves as they walked on the streets.

Maybe he should spend the day outside, at least for an hour or two. Alone.

He drank the rest of his coffee and placed the mug in the sink, going back to his bedroom to get dressed and get out of his pajamas. Stretching his legs for a bit would freshen him up.

-

Graham secured his jacket as he walked aimlessly around the busy streets still wet after the recent rainfall, the wind stronger than usual as it blew against him as he trudged on. The sun was nowhere to be seen, painting the sky in a greyish hue. 

Normally, he would be heading back indoors or at work around this time. Today needed a change of pace for him. If he spent another minute in his flat, he was going to go mad.

He went by the usual bookstore, café, record store, and convenience shop. Eager to find something new; he turned a corner and took a different route, going wherever it led him to. Finding more of the same, only with more antique shops and clothing shops, Graham began to reconsider and abandon his walk. Maybe just stop by a corner shop to buy a few snacks and head back home.

Then he smelled a strange scent, a flowery scent with some kind of spice, it came from a store no more than a few meters away from him. He approached the shop and the scent grew stronger as he saw a building painted red, the building that had the name Mystic House on the glass door in a golden, early 1900's style font.

Graham knew what kind of shop it was as soon as he read the name. 

His fingers itched for the door handle, the scent so inviting and subtle. By instinct, he took one step forward before he stopped himself from taking another. 

Ever since that night, Graham had avoided anything that had the slightest connection to the supernatural, especially witchcraft. The exception being Alex, of course, it wasn't the poor bloke's fault he has to drink blood to survive. 

It wasn't that he was afraid of magick, he was only more cautious of it now. He had seen what it damage it could do in the wrong hands. He never wanted to deal with anything like that again.

_Just a quick peek and then back home._

His hand reached out for the golden handle anyway; the metal cold as he pulled the door open and stepped inside the shop. A tiny bell rang above the door and he wiped his feet on the rug.

The shop was part bookstore, part New Age shop. The scent was coming from a burning stick of incense on a wooden tray by the checkout desk on the New Age side of the shop. Occasionally, a person would appear and greet him in places like these, it seemed he was the only one here.

A large red curtain was in the back of the shop where the shelves and sitting area ended. A small hand painted sign in black with white cursive font hung on the wall adjacent to the inviting space.

**Inquire at the front for Readings and Seances.**

A little too invasive for his taste. He didn't like the idea of someone evaluating him or speaking to the dead.

Graham took the opportunity to browse unbothered and went by one section after another. Book by book, topic by topic, he absorbed the information. Shamanism, Pagan, Neo-Pagan, Santeria, and a never-ending amount on Wicca on other shelves. It was a mecca for anyone into the occult. 

Flipping through pages aimlessly, he didn't stray too long on one book before moving on to the next. It was material that he'd read before, back when he first learned of magick and the occult. Back when he was still fascinated by it.

Graham placed another book in its place and continued to look through the shelves. It was then when he heard whispers coming from behind the curtain. He couldn't make out what they were saying and didn't want to risk being caught eavesdropping, so he stayed put.

The mystery of the whispers was over when the curtains were pulled apart, a woman stepped out and then a man from behind. 

"I must be honest, your skills have become impeccable," The dark-haired woman dressed in a long-sleeved purple flowing dress commented. "I'm impressed with the progress you made."

The man who she was speaking to made a bashful smile. He was dressed in black from head to toe, carrying a long black coat on his arm. He had an androgynous appearance to him, his pale face was thin with high cheekbones that rivaled Bowie's. His hair was styled so that most of his hair resided on the left side of his face. A silver necklace adorned his alabaster neck and silver hooped earrings were on both of his ears. 

Even though his appearance was eye-catching, Graham did not feel compelled to get to know the man. He could tell with one look at the model-like man that they were on completely different planes of existence.

"I'm glad you noticed, not many people have," The man answered humbly. 

"Oh, surely they must have. Or have you been solitary again?"

"Not really, no, not recently," The man admitted in a polished voice. "I have been away, you know."

"For far too long in my opinion," The woman chided, gently poking him in the chest.

"I'll stop by more often, I promise," The man raised his hand in a swearing motion.

"You better," The woman smiled. She paused and turned towards the direction Graham was currently hidden behind the shelves. Graham made a quiet gasp. It was like she was staring right at him through the narrow space between the shelves. 

"Whoever's there, you're free to say hello. No need to hide," She smiled happily.

Graham gulped and didn't move at first until he willed himself to. He went around the shelves and paced towards the two seemingly witches, the woman smiled while the man remained indifferent until he got a closer look at Graham. He placed his hand underneath his chin as he visually inspected him. Not quite subtle at all. Witches were anything but subtle.

"Uh, Hello," Graham greeted the two of them. "I was just having a look 'round."

"I assumed so, I don't believe I've seen you before," The woman said, her eyes squinting a tad as she looked at Graham.

"This is my first time here," Graham answered.

"Clearly," The male witch answered with a raised eyebrow. "You seem a bit lost."

"I do know of magick if you're wondering," Graham replied curtly. He certainly did not want to deal with any more haughty witches. "I'm not a Natural of whatever you lot call it."

"Are you now?" The woman beamed.

"Prove it then," The wannabe Bowie requested with a passive smile.

Graham went to work and began to concentrate. The sounds around him diminished and he heard the man's voice in his head.

_Why is he looking at me like that? Do I know him?_ The man in black pondered, confusion visible.

"I'm Graham, I'm not creeping on you if that's what you're worried 'bout." Graham replied smartly.

The man's eyes widened a fraction and he looked back and forth from him and the woman before composing himself.

"You're telepathic." He stated simply.

"That I am," Graham answered with a new boost of confidence, his mouth loosening into a smile.

"How fascinating," The woman said with slight awe. "I can't remember the last time I saw a telepath. What's your last name, dear?"

"Coxon," Graham said, his attention turning to the man in black. "You never said yours."

The man smiled with mild hesitation, his movements almost graceful as he held out his hand to shake. 

"Apologies, I'm Brett."

Graham shook his hand and nodded, letting go as quickly as the handshake began. The man had a strong grip for someone that looked like a model that was on a liquid diet. 

"What can you do?" He asked curiously.

"More than I can handle sometimes," Brett admitted with an unenthusiastic tone. "My gifts aren't for the faint of heart, let's just say."

"What, you can light yourself on fire?" Graham questioned.

Brett scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face.

"No, I can do something much more useful than that."

"Like?"

Brett's eyes focused on something behind Graham, his smile growing.

"She's here again," He stated calmly as he stole a brief glance at the female witch.

"Must be here waiting for her husband again," She said with a touch of melancholy in her voice, "He always comes at around six to speak with her."

Graham tried to see what Brett was staring at, he saw nothing. No woman that he could see.

"Who are you looking at?"

Brett smirked and stepped closer to Graham, his eyes still on the invisible woman.

"The ghost that's behind you."

Graham blinked slowly.

"You can see ghosts?"

Brett nodded. "Can speak to them too, some like having someone to talk to, some just want to be left alone." He explained to Graham, finally facing him again.

"So they are real," Graham spoke quietly.

"You didn't know?" Brett asked, his smile more genuine this time.

"No, I didn't," Graham instantly turning back around, viewing the amused face of Brett and the curious one of the lady. The lady that was staring at him with her head tilted.

"Coxon, was it?"

"Yeah, why?" Graham asked.

The woman made a barely hidden smile and fiddled with her dress sleeves. 

"The name sounds familiar to me is all," She replied with a slow shake of her head. Graham could tell there was more on her mind and was going to take a listen inside when she kept talking. 

"Would you like a reading?" 

"A tarot card reading?" Graham questioned, his skepticism rising. "I don't really believe in those sorts of things."

"You don't doubt ghosts, but you doubt tarot cards?" Brett asked with a snicker in his question. 

"I don't think a few cards with some designs on them will determine my fate." Graham professed, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. 

"The cards don't determine your fate, dear. You determine your fate," The lady lectured, her friendly smile not offended at the slightest. "The cards simply give you a nudge in the right direction."

Graham thought about it for a moment. Compared to all the things he's dealt with, this was the least risky of them all. No danger really. Just a woman and a stack of cards. 

Before he could give her an answer, he suddenly felt a freezing chill pass through his body and he hugged himself in an attempt to get warm.

"Fuck, does anyone feel cold?"

"That'll be Mrs. Wickham, yeah, she's wandering around the shop," Brett answered calmly, seemingly unaffected by the drop of temperature. 

"Where is she?" 

Brett snickered again.

"Right behind you."

Graham stepped away from the spot he was in and faced the direction of the exit. This was enough supernatural shit for one day. 

"Right, I think I'll be going now." He said to no one in particular.

"Don't you want your reading, dear?" The lady asked from behind. 

Graham sighed and faced her again. 

"How much is it?"

"Twelve pounds."

Graham tsked and shrugged. "Left my wallet at home," He made up on the spot.

"Oh, that's too bad." The witch replied disappointed. "Well, whenever you'd like one, you know where to come."

Graham nodded quickly. "Yeah, thanks." He didn't wait for another response and went back towards the entrance, exiting the shop and sighing at the slightly warmer air outside.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting himself relax and the sensation of the ghost's presence wither away until he was satisfied. He heard the bell of the entrance and ring and quiet footsteps stop next to him.

"You're quite easily spooked for a witch," He heard Brett speak nonchalantly.

Graham opened his eyes and took a peek at Brett, his eyes focusing on the street.

"Not a witch," He shot back.

"You're a telepath though," Brett stated.

"My parents aren't witches, no one in my family is."

"I see," Brett began, putting on his coat one sleeve at a time, "Well, either someone in your family is lying to you or you're a very lucky man."

Graham laughed humorlessly. 

"Lucky isn't the word I would use."

"It's the one I would use," Brett revealed, "I'd love to have your gift. I think a lot of people would."

"It's useless when people have ways of hiding what they really think." Graham huffed.

"Charms, you mean?"

"Colored beaded necklaces that are charmed, yeah."

Brett stopped buttoning his coat and looked straight at Graham.

"Whose wearers happened to be blonde?"

It was Graham's turn to look now, his eyes narrowing.

"Don't tell me you know Damon as well."

Brett's lips became a lopsided smile with no warmth. 

"I wouldn't say I know him, I just know him as some egomaniac that wants everyone to like him."

"I'm guessing you don't like him."

"I have my reasons, what's your connection to him?"

Graham chewed on his lower lip.

"I used to date him."

Brett's reply wasn't what he was expecting, not in a hundred years.

"So you're who Justine was talking about?"

"You know Justine too?" Graham rolled his eyes.

"Of course, I used to date her," Brett confessed.

Graham sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Small fucking world." A small world that became more claustrophobic by the day.

Brett looked at him with a pity that he actually understood. Normally, he would hate it when people would do that. Graham knew he was hurt by someone too and the person responsible was closer to home. Too close for his liking.

"I'll be off now," Brett announced, fixing his coat lapel. "You should come back sometime for a reading. It'll do you more good than you think."

"Sure," Graham said, his answer coming out automatic, his mind was somewhere else. The night he walked into that bedroom. Seeing the two of them locked at the lips. What a fool he was.

"Why did the two of you break up?" Graham blurted out.

To his relief, Brett didn't think the question was too imposing.

Brett's smile turned into a sad one.

"She left me for him." 

Graham nodded slowly and took a step back. Things were starting to make more sense now. 

"Right," He said finally, there was nothing more to say. Brett and he did have one thing in common after all. "Cheers." 

Brett said his goodbye as well and they both went their separate ways. Graham headed back home and remembered the route he took for the shop.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to go back to the shop one day. As long as any ghosts don't get too close to him. He'd had his fair share of scares. 

The sun hadn't even begun to set yet by the time he arrived home. Front door locked, he hung his jacket and on one of the hooks and changed into a white shirt and black knickers in his room.

He spent the rest of the night watching TV and smoking cigarettes. When he grew bored, he settled into his room and played his guitar, jotting down notes and lyrics on a notebook, never to be seen by anyone except but him. He didn't really want to show anyone anyway.

His eyes began to droop and he put away his guitar on his stand in a corner of the room, he climbed into bed and began to get comfortable. 

Graham realized he had forgotten to turn off his desk lamp and sighed, he was too lazy to get up and shut it off. He sat up in his bed slowly and stared at the lamp illuminated his art tools and stationery items. 

_Wish it could just turn off for me_ , He thought tiredly.

At that moment, the light of the lamp vanished and the room became dark. 

Graham pushed back the sheets and tilted his head to the side, scratching his head.

"Weird," He murmured. Pure coincidence, the lightbulb must have gone out. He'll have to change it tomorrow when he had the time.

He laid down again and pulled the sheets over him, he relaxed his limbs and allowed himself to be still, letting the drowsiness overtake him.

The riverbank was in his dreams again; it never changed from the first time he saw it.

He would only remember the water and voices when he would wake up the next morning.

_Promise we'll always be friends._

_I promise._

_Promise we'll always be together._

_I promise._

_Good. Now give us a kiss._


	2. but not tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham attends a party and gets more excitement than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, I hope you've all been well. I had to edit this chapter for a few bits here and there before I finally felt satisfied with posting it. This definitely goes into one of my favorite chapters I've written for this fic. I'll update by next week if I don't get too distracted by Animal Crossing., it's so addicting! I hope you all like it!
> 
> Chapter title is from Depeche Mode
> 
> (Endnotes contain warnings.)

Graham was lost in a haze of smoke and surrounded by people left and right.

Guitar strumming, drums banging, voices screaming as he weaved through the mad crowd to get away from the smoke that clouded his vision. His glasses starting to become foggy with all the warm breath didn't help the situation either. Downside of being in a crowded house.

He didn't know the group playing on the makeshift stage and he had no will in getting to know them, they were bloody awful. The singer sounded like a banshee and the guitarist kept on missing the important notes. Everyone else didn't seem to care if the band was doing a good job or not. They were too busy mindlessly jumping around or high out of their minds.

Graham didn't even know why he decided to come to this party. He could probably sum it all up to boredom and wanting to get free drinks. 

The party was being hosted by one of his co-workers who invited him and wouldn't take no for an answer when Graham said he wasn't sure if he was available. He spoke to him for only a few minutes before he was whisked away by two other people and he was left alone. 

It was better that way; he could drink and not be bothered.

It was on his third beer that he finally began to feel the pleasant lightness and lucidity that he knew well. People weren't as irritating as they were before and he responded nicely to other's comments and even spoke to a few of his co-workers when they found him again.

Hour after hour passed, he was at his fifth beer and was ready to leave for the night. He needed a quick visit to the bathroom first.

Cursing at himself for the inevitable hangover he would have tomorrow morning, he stumbled his way to the bathroom. Passing through a barricade of people and a fog of smoke, he fought back his frustration at getting to the loo fast enough. By a miracle, the bathroom was empty and he ran inside, slamming the door behind him before anyone else could claim it. 

The bathroom was quite clean save for the empty plastic cups scattered on the sink and tile floors. He fumbled at his button and zipper on his jeans before finally relieving himself in the toilet with a sigh.

He drank too much again and he knew it, yet he didn't care. He didn’t have to work tomorrow and he had nothing else to do. Nothing and no one was going to stop him from having a good time. Zipping up, he flushed and went to clean his hands in the sink. 

The water ran as he looked at himself in the mirror cabinet, his expression souring as he began to inspect himself. Every flaw seemed to be magnified, his eyes were slightly red, he had a five o'clock that he still hadn't gotten around to shaving, he looked dreadful.

He lowered his head, a sudden wave of nausea hit him and he swayed a bit, hanging on to the bridge of the sink to keep his balance.

"Fuck," He muttered and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the porcelain bowl with a loud retching noise. He coughed and gasped for breath when all of the bile was out of his system, hands and legs shaking from the action.

Groaning in disgust, he ripped a long strand of toilet paper from the roll hanging on the wall and wiped his mouth and chin clean, throwing it into the bowl when he finished. With a heavy sigh, he shuffled to the other side of the tile wall and rested against it. He needed a few minutes to let his stomach settle before he could leave. 

How pathetic Graham felt at this moment was immeasurable. He could have stayed home and done something constructive. He could have written some music, finished a book that was taking way too long to read, phoned his mum even. Not get pissed and throw up in a stranger's bathroom.

_Pathetic_ , Graham thought.

He sniffed and took off his glasses to clean them with his shirt sleeve, scrubbing the lenses gently of any spots and accidental bile.

The door interrupted his process when it swung open, a man rushed inside and slammed the door behind him. 

"Oi! Occupied, mate." Graham slurred irritated that his alone time was breached, hurrying to put his glasses back on.

"Should have locked the door th-," The man began sarcastically, his sentence dying out.

"Give a man a break, yeah?" Graham grumbled, vision back in focus and every thought crashed when he saw who was standing above him.

Of course it had to be him. 

Damon stared at him bewildered, his blonde hair appearing golden in the lighting of the small bathroom. His eyes were stuck on him, making Graham feel smaller by the second.

"Graham," His name being the only name that Damon said. It sounded like a reaffirmation. As if Damon wasn't sure it was really him.

With that, Graham carefully stood up, his balance on his rocks as of recent. 

"Damon," He responded curtly, stepping over to the sink and opening the faucet, letting the sink fill up with warm water. 

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked.

"What's it look like? I'm having a drink," Graham answered, drinking some of the water from his hands and bowing his head to spit it back out. He needed to get the awful acidic taste out of his mouth.

"More than one by the looks of it," Damon countered.

"Fuck off," Graham retorted angrily, closing the faucet again, he saw Damon looking at him from the reflection of the mirror and averted his eyes. 

"I don't think I will, no," Damon said, unmoving and crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "Not now that I finally can speak to you properly."

"What makes you think I wanna speak to you?" Graham questioned, wiping his hands on a small hand towel.

Damon let out a frustrated sigh.

"Graham, you can't keep running away like this."

"Yes, I can," Graham shot back again with a sarcastic smile. "I can do whatever the hell I want."

"Save the sarcasm, yeah? Can we please talk like fucking adults?" Damon finally snapped, stepping closer to Graham.

Graham moved back until his lower back was pressed against the sink. He huffed and shook his head. He was cornered, there was nowhere to go this time. 

"Fine, talk then," Graham relented. 

"I know you're angry at me, you have a right to be," Damon began without pause, "but I worried about you constantly. You ignored me."

"Well, as you can see, I'm in tip-top shape," Graham cut in.

"But you're not," Damon asserted, "I know you're not."

"Why do you fuckin' care?" Graham snapped with a slight slur, "Why are you even still 'ere?" He lost his balance for a second, his hand gripping the sink again. 

"Because you're important to me," Damon replied, voice somber and low. 

Graham's anger began to simmer down, his head still lowered and not ready to look at Damon in the eye just yet.

"I don't think I am really," He said in response.

He heard Damon get closer to him and Graham froze, shoulders tensing when he felt a hand on his own.

"Graham, please look at me," Damon asked quietly.

Graham resisted at first, then slowly turned to look at Damon, his eyes piercing him and his face hopeful as he spoke.

"You are important to me, I know you don't believe me but it's true."

Graham stayed silent, allowing Damon to continue.

"I hurt you, and I'm so sorry for that. I can't change what happened." Damon paused, he was obviously thinking of whether or not to say his next words. "I don't want you to hate me."

Graham eventually spoke up after a few long seconds, shaking his head.

"I don't hate you, Dames."

Damon's eyes softened at the sound of his nickname.

"You don't?"

"No, I don't."

Damon seemed relieved. 

"That's good to hear."

"Was it even real?" Graham interrupted.

"Of course it was," Damon answered, somehow knowing what he was referring to. He caught on quick to things as he always did.

"Graham, everything about us was real," He approached them, their chests close to each other as Graham held in his breath.

"Then why did you have to fuck it up?" Graham asked, attempting to step back, Damon held him in place with his hands on his biceps.

"Because I'm an idiot," Damon answered with a sad smile, that same smile that Graham had missed dearly.

"You're not wrong there," Graham nodded, refusing to smile back with some reluctance.

One of Damon's hands glided up to his neck and Graham flinched when his warm skin made contact with his.

"You're not wearing the necklace," Damon stated.

"I-I stopped wearing it months ago," Graham stuttered. "Didn't do much help when that maniac went after me."

"It kept you alive, that's what I think." Damon smiled sadly.

"I did most of the work," Graham said, lost in thought as his eyes were on Damon's white jumper.

Damon's hand stroked his lower jaw and neck when Graham didn't object to the touch.

"I missed you, Gra," Damon confessed, his eyes moving from his eyes to his lips. "A lot. More than you know."

Graham gulped and felt his face burning, looking at Damon once more. He began to pinpoint his features, the sandy strands of hair on his forehead, his bright eyes, the beaded necklace around his neck. His fingers itched, he wanted to touch Damon. He didn't allow himself to, although the temptation to do so was getting stronger by the second.

"I can't change the past and I don't want us to go on like this," Damon continued when he didn't reply. "You don't have to forgive me; just talk to me, spend time together like we used to."

Graham raised his hand, wrapping it around Damon's wrist.

"You want us to be like we used to be?"

"I do."

"And what 'bout Justine?" 

Damon's mouth flattened into a line. 

"What about her?"

Graham furrowed his brows. 

"She won't mind 'bout me hanging 'round you?" He questioned. "Your girlfriend who you're obsessed with?"

"Graham," Damon started before Graham kept talking.

"You think I don't know 'bout you and her?" His voice was sour with contempt as he pushed Damon's hand back. "I know you're together again."

Damon looked away with a frown before facing Graham, his arms crossed.

"It's true, I am. I didn't hear from you in months and you refused to let me into your home."

"What are you talkin' 'bout?" Graham muttered, rubbing his left temple as his head began to throb with a dull pain.

"You put a spell outside your door, I couldn't see you."

Graham stopped rubbing his head and let out of a sigh of frustration. 

"There's a banishing spell outside your front door, it prevents anyone you don't want entering your flat from going in," Damon explained straightforwardly. "That's a difficult spell to do right. Especially for someone who wasn't taught the craft."

"I think I should go," Graham muttered and tried to get to the door before Damon blocked his way again.

"You either got help from someone," Damon went on, "or you did it yourself," His frown became replaced with an expression of hurt, "Who helped you do it?"

"I fucking did it, all right?" Graham admitted reluctantly. "I didn't want to see you. I haven't gone near anything magick related since."

It was Damon's turn to be silent, his eyes more invasive than ever.

"You don't get to play the victim, Dames," Graham quipped harshly, "You were the one snogging somebody else, who knows what else you would have done hadn't I gone in! Let me through!"  
He ordered and started to push past Damon.

Right as Graham was about to turn the doorknob, he felt Damon's hand on his own.

"Graham, stop running from me," He pleaded.

A rush of nausea and pain rose up in Graham; he fought back tears as he wrenched open the door.

"I'm not feeling well," Graham excused himself as he went out the bathroom, avoiding the curious eyes of strangers as he raced out of the crowded house. 

The urge to throw up again was building up as Graham pushed through the crowd, he kept pushing and walking until he was outside. With a shaky breath of relief, he took his first steps back home to his flat.

The walk back home he spent most of it lost in his head, he thought of Damon and how he knew he would figure out about the spell. He knew that Damon wouldn't stop at just calling him and leaving messages on his voicemail. He knew that he would find him and talk to him face to face. Damon confronted things head on like with almost everything else in his life.

So he did the spell he found in one of Damon's books that he let him borrow. 

He remembered lighting the black candles in a triangle on his wooden floor, a picture of Damon smiling at him in his bedroom in the center of the shape. He sat down in front of them, hands gripping the crinkled paper with the words to recite.

_I banish you once, I banish you twice_

_I banish you out of this house_

_Not one step, not two_

_No more harm will you do_

_So, mote it be_

The candles blew out and Graham felt static in the air. 

The numbness inside him felt more present when he finished the spell.

_I guess we're both fucking cowards._

Graham felt his stomach churn again and he stumbled into an alleyway, he got behind a dumpster and threw up behind it, bracing the brick wall for support. He spat out a glob of saliva and breathed heavily, wiping his mouth on the back of his jacket sleeve.

He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, staying still and catching his breath.

Then he heard a _click_ of a switchblade.

He swerved around quickly only to get struck in the face by a fist with iron rings, his vision became a blur as he collided roughly to the wet asphalt on his back. The glasses he was wearing flew off his eyes, clattering somewhere in the dark.

A sharp, stinging pain spread on the right side of his face, he could already feel his cheek start to swell up. He could taste copper on his tongue and he let out a garbled groan. Struggling to see the assailant through his impacted vision, he could make out two figures, two males. Skinheads.

Not the good kind to his dismay.

"Wallet, now." One of them barked at him. 

Graham coughed and tried to get up, only to get a fistful of his hair grabbed by one of the men. 

"I don't got anything!" He sputtered out.

"What a fuckin' liar this poof is," The bald man sneered, his distressed brown leather jacket reeking of sweat and cigarettes. 

"We know you art queers always got somethin' on youse, give it 'ere or I'll cut you up," The other skinhead with the knife warned. 

Graham glared at him, nausea was all but gone and anger overcame him. Was this really how he was going to die? He'd rather get killed by a maniac that almost got him than a bunch of skinheads that wanked off to the National Front.

"Aren't you 'fraid I got AIDS?" Graham sarcastically slurred with the pain and the lingering drunkenness. "Might get blood on you."

The knife only got closer to him, cold steel pressing against his jaw, not enough pressure yet to break the skin.

"Not my first time cutting a disgusting poof like you," The knife-wielding man smiled smugly as if hurting innocent people was something to be proud of.

Graham sucked up all the blood that was pooling in his mouth and spat right into the man's face. The man yelled in disgust and fury before letting go of Graham's hair, backhanding him and sent him flat on the ground.

While the blood and spit covered skinhead wiped his face with his shirt, the other began looking around from left to right, his voice nervous as he spoke.

"Someone's watching us, mate."

"What you goin' on 'bout?" The other man questioned in irritation, "No one's 'ere, get the fucking wallet, will ya?"

The other skinhead did as he was told and went towards Graham, kneeling down and searching all his pockets, eventually finding his wallet.

"Got it," The man held up the wallet, opening it," He don't got much in here, maybe he's hidi-" The man faltered as he glanced up and froze, shock crossed his face. 

"W-W-What the fuck?" He muttered.

"What's wrong with you, man?" The other skinhead asked. 

He never got a response as the skinhead with Graham's wallet was suddenly yanked upwards, his screams shrill as he was raised up in the air by a figure dressed in black. His screams continued until they suddenly came to an eerie halt.

_Fuck, it's the maniac_ , Graham thought panickily.

He tried to get up again, the other skinhead leaped into action and grabbed the back of his jean jacket and pulled him into a sitting position, knife pressed against his adam's apple.

"Get away from me, whoever you are!" He ordered no one. "Or I'll kill 'im! I swear I will!"

There was no response; distant thunder and the wind blowing filled the silence. 

"I fucking mean it!" The man shouted out, fear tainting his threat.

The man took in uneasy breaths above Graham, his grip on the knife shaky but strong. It was much too risky to try to take it from him.

Luckily, Graham didn't have to do anything himself. 

The man was taken upwards as well and he was finally released, he heard the man's screams as he moved over to the wall, resting his battered self against it. He shut his eyes and tried to block out the sounds by covering his ears.

The screams ceased once more; this time he heard the sound of bodies dropping to the floor, followed by pained whimpers. Graham didn't dare open his eyes.

Footsteps slowly approached him and his heart raced, inhaling sharply when they stopped way too close to him. 

"I think this belongs to you," An all too familiar voice stated.

Graham uncovered his ears and slowly opened his eyes, he saw his wallet being held by a pale hand, his eyes lifting to the figure standing over him.

Graham let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

"Hello, Alex."

Alex knelt down in front of him, dressed in a black turtleneck and black raincoat, his smile with blood on the corners of his mouth warm and inviting. His hair had grown since he last saw him and he managed to make it somewhat styled. He was handsome, he truly was. 

"Hello Graham," He greeted back, "Not exactly how I'd imagine our reunion."

Graham smiled and grimaced from the pain on his cheek, taking his wallet from him.

"Yeah, not what I pictured either," He answered.

He saw Alex reached towards him and huffed out a laugh when he placed his glasses back onto his face. 

"Thanks," He said.

"Of course," Alex responded. 

Graham's attention turned towards the skinhead a few feet away from them.

"Is the other one dead?" He asked.

"No, I can kill him if you like," Alex answered casually.

"Alex!"

"Joking, love," Alex winked. 

Graham sighed in relief. 

"I wanted to really," Alex went on truthfully, the malice in his eyes as evidence. "I drank from this sniveling coward," He gestured towards the man when his thumb. "Not the worst I've had, but certainly not the best."

"I'm glad you didn't," Graham nodded, "Can you take me home? I feel like absolute shit." He groaned weakly.

Alex immediately helped him stand up carefully, letting Graham rest his weight on him.

"Thank you," Graham muttered tiredly.

"Anytime, let's get you home," Alex smiled and began to walk him out of the alleyway. 

Suddenly, a man and a woman around their age ran into the alleyway, the screams of the men obviously attracting them. All of them stopped when they saw Graham and Alex, their attention shifting onto the terrified and immobile men on the ground.

"What happened here?"

"None of your business, let us pass," Alex advised them as he stared intently at the two.

"That won't work on us, vampire," The woman informed them coldly. She pulled out a pentagram necklace and showed it to him. 

Alex scoffed. "Witches."

"Right, you two are coming us and you got no say in it," The man ordered. "Follow us and don't think of running." The male witch circled behind them while the female witch led them to their new location.

Alex sighed and turned towards Graham as he helped him walk.

"Looks like we're in trouble."

"Story of my fucking life." Graham rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan Abnormal and cheese boy's back! Graham won't be alone for a loooong time now. Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> WARNING: alcohol abuse, violence, blood, and homophobic language.


	3. lay your hands on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Alex meet with old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you all have been well. I apologize for the delay in posting. Unfortunately, I had gotten news that one of my relatives had been infected with COVID-19 and my mother was exposed to a co-worker that had the virus, so things had been tense a little while. Thankfully, my relative's condition has improved and my mother is safe. lease stay safe out there and I hope you all enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Thompson Twins

The trek to their unknown destination was going to be a short one as told by the female witch that was leading Graham and Alex. Each step was draining to Graham, his stomach was unsettled, half of his face felt swollen and sore. He didn't even want to see how he looked in the mirror.

So much had happened in the span of ten minutes, it was disorienting. One minute, he was about to get slashed by skinheads, the next he's being practically held by Alex. Now he was being led to who knows where. It didn't help that his head was pounding and he was on the verge of fainting. 

Halfway through, Graham lost his balance and he felt the world spin as he fell. He was caught by his back just before he hit the ground, Alex's hold on him strong as he lifted him back up.

"Hang on a minute," Alex told the two witches, he guided Graham towards a corner shop.

"We need to keep going," The male witch said sternly.

"Give us a minute," Alex snapped, "I need to take him to the loo."

The man huffed in annoyance. 

"Alright, just hurry it up."

Alex led him inside the small shop, he asked the clerk where the bathroom was and went in the direction where the man pointed. They entered a tiny hallway and Alex pulled open the door to the men's room, closing and locking the door. Fluorescent lights making the small, all white room seem artificial.

"I need to sit," Graham mumbled as he pulled down the top lid to the toilet and sat down.

Alex patted his pockets and pulled out a swiss army knife, pulling out the small blade.

"What are you doing?" Graham questioned. 

"You look like hell, those bastards did a number on you," Alex explained as he placed the knife on the sink, he took off his raincoat and hanged it on the rail next to the toilet. He began to roll up his sleeve on his left arm and Graham began to understand where this was going.

"Alex, you don't have to that," He said weakly.

"Graham, you can barely walk and you're hurt," He said sternly as a mother would, "At least let me give you a few drops."

Graham stared at Alex's exposed arm; it appeared like snow in the room's harsh lighting. The lights bothered him and he scrunched his eyes, he wondered if they were bothering Alex too. 

"Not too much," Graham decided quickly before he had another second thought.

Alex grabbed the knife and strode over to him, he then carefully dragged the knife just beneath his wrist, cutting his skin in a line and exposing the blood that slowly dripped down his arm. What pain there was barely registered on his face. He set the bloody knife down on top of the tank, offering his arm to Graham.

"Drink, before the cut closes." 

Graham inhaled and released a shivering breath before sitting up straight and placing his hand on Alex's elbow, he got a strong whiff of iron before he began to drink from him.

It hit him all at once; the pure taste of iron and bittersweetness, a thick and warm liquid that became more intoxicating by the second. Graham's eyes slipped shut as he began to consume the blood, his hold on Alex's arm tightening by the slightest. He felt minuscule trails of blood escaping from the corners of his lips and run down his jaw, but ignored them as he drank.

Graham knew he had drunk more than a few drops at this point, yet he didn't care. And Alex didn't remind him to stop or he was letting it happen willingly. It was invigorating, the weakness in him was dissipating. He felt more energized with each and every drop.

Alex did eventually cut him off, a gentle hand was placed on his lower jaw and he pulled his arm back, Graham taking his first proper breath in about a minute.

His eyes opened and Graham locked eyes onto Alex who stared back with fascination, his pupils dilated even though he wasn't on any sort of drug. If drugs even had any effect on him anymore.

"How do you feel?" Alex asked him calmly.

Graham didn't need to think about his answer.

"Alive," He breathed out.

Alex's smile turned into a grin.

"Thought you might," Alex replied as he gave him space. "Stand up."

Graham slowly began to rise before realizing he had no problem with his legs, he stood up and sighed in relief. All the pain and nausea were gone; he felt just like new. 

"Have a look in the mirror," Alex suggested. 

Graham stepped towards the stained and scratched mirror placed above the sink, he watched in amazement as the inflammation and red-purplish bruising on his cheek and around his eye healed right in front of him. The redness in his eyes cleared and the white came back. A few seconds passed and only a slight red bruising around his eye remained on his face. 

Graham gently poked at his cheek and felt no pain, only slightly tender skin that healed in seconds when it normally would have taken a week.

"Wicked," He smiled widely, rubbing his jacket sleeves to simmer down the goosebumps on his arms. "Now you don't have to lug me around anymore."

"I didn't mind, really," Alex smirked, "Not the first time I've held you."

Graham furrowed his brows until he remembered, focusing on the wall instead.

"Oh, you mean that night, when I found out about you two."

"I gave you quite a shock, you really don't remember anything from the way back your flat?" Alex questioned curiously.

"Not a thing," Graham shook his head, his head turning to Alex again. "How was France by the way?" He changed the subject off from him.

"Lovely as always, delicious food, beautiful museums and scenery, nice birds," Alex recalled wistfully as he cleaned the blood off his arm in the sink. 

"Sounds like you had a wonderful time," Graham said simply, standing next to him to clean the remnants of blood and dirt off his hands.

He stopped when Alex's hand lifted his jaw, the other wiping blood off his chin and mouth with wet paper.

"I can do that myself, y'know?" Graham said plainly, ducking his head, and brushed his cheek with the back of his hand. 

"You wouldn't have noticed it," Alex countered as he cleaned off the last spot of blood on his lower lip. 

Graham didn't feel like answering back and stretched his arms above his head, hearing and feeling his bones crack pleasantly. 

"Thank you," He said to Alex in appreciation, lowering his arms. "I feel much better now." 

"You look much better as well, I hate seeing that pretty face marred." Alex complimented him as he put his black raincoat back on.

"Pretty is the last word I think of when I see this ugly mug," Graham remarked with a short laugh.

"It's the first word I think of when I see it," Alex smiled coyly.

Graham made a hum and turned his head towards the door, he didn't want Alex to see him smiling. 

_That bastard._

He jumped when someone banged loudly on the door.

"We don't have all night, you two!" The female witch said impatiently.

"We'll be right out!" Alex barked, rolling his eyes. 

Alex buttoned up his raincoat halfway and fixed his hair in the mirror, facing Graham as his peeved off expression faded.

"Right, after you," Alex said as he unlocked and opened the door, Graham walked out of the bathroom. The two witches were waiting out in the shop and went outside when they saw the two of them exit. 

"Hey, you have to buy something!" The shopkeeper told Alex.

Alex made eye contact with him and stopped in front of the counter. 

"I already bought something when I walked in."

The shopkeeper nodded slowly, backing away towards the register. 

"Yes, you did. My mistake," He picked up his newspaper and flicked through the pages.

"Really, Alex?"

Alex shrugged and stood in front of him, his body blocking the shopkeeper's view of him.

"Hey, I could have stolen some crisps or you could have taken some," Alex explained and smirked. "But you'd never do something like that."

Graham chewed at his bottom lip and glanced around the aisles, he spotted a pack of cheese flavored crisps and discreetly swiped it and slipped the bag inside his jacket. 

He smiled at Alex's raised eyebrow.

"Never say never," Graham waltzed out of the store followed by Alex.

"Not your first time stealing something then?" Alex asked nonchalantly.

Graham opened the bag of crisps when the shop was no longer in sight, offering the bag to Alex who made a childish grin as he scooped out some crisps.

"I stole some sausages one time, got chased by the butcher," Graham answered as he grabbed a crisp and ate it. "Not my finest moment."

"I would like to have seen that," Alex chuckled.

"I was wearing a skirt too," Graham added as he ate another crisp. 

"I would love to have seen that," Alex clarified, reaching into the bag for more. "Cheese flavored, you read my mind." He beamed at him, popping a crisp into his mouth.

The witches eventually led them to a seemingly vacant office building, they went around to the side of the building and stopped a back door next to an alleyway. The female witch took out a set of keys and unlocked the door, showing them a quiet and empty hallway that had been obviously untouched for ages. Graham followed them inside as Alex followed him, finishing off the bag of crisps and tossing it into a wastebasket.

The female witch knocked to the rhythm of the first chords of Beethoven's ninth and waited. Not a minute passed when the door was unlocked from behind and opened halfway.

Graham's eyes widened when he saw who was behind.

"Jamie?" He blurted out before the other witches could say anything.

Jamie looked just as surprised as him.

"Graham, Alex." The now redhead Jamie said as he drifted back and forth from the two of them. "What are you two doing here?"

"It's about the call you received," The male witch answered for them, "The situation involves these two and some skinheads."

"How serious is it?" Jamie questioned. 

"They're not dead if you're wondering," Alex inputted as he waved his hand briefly in greeting.

Jamie sighed. "Right, well let's discuss it."

"They stay outside first, then we let them in," The female witch ordered. 

"Fine, fine," Jamie said impatiently, "Let's get this over with." He opened the door wider to let the two witches through. From what Graham could see from his limited view, it appeared they were other witches inside. Other witches waiting to judge them.

"We'll let you two in soon," Jamie told them, he made an apologetic smile. "Good to see you two unharmed." He added before closing the door and leaving them alone.

The hallway of the building was silent with the exception of the muffled voices coming from the room. Graham and Alex stood next to each other against the opposite wall, waiting to get disciplined for fighting against their bullies.

It was like Stanway all over again; except the bullies lost and got beaten up by a vampire. 

Graham wasn't complaining. In fact, he was quite pleased, save for the injuries he got earlier. He folded and unfolded his hands repeatedly, not knowing what to do with them. A thought crossed his mind and he spoke it into existence.

"Sorry," He muttered to Alex.

Alex looked confused. 

"For what?"

"That you keep having to get me out of trouble."

"Well, you don't necessarily go looking for it in your defense," Alex replied with his quick wit.

Graham hummed quietly.

"Either way, it always finds me and I let it sometimes."

"Good thing you got me then, innit?" Alex bumped his shoulder with his own, smiling happily.

Graham shook his head and a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff.

"How are you so calm after what just happened?"

"There's really not a lot of things that make me panic nowadays." Alex shrugged. "Scared, sure."

"You get scared?" Graham questioned with disbelief. "I doubt that."

"I got scared tonight watching those dickheads pummel you," Alex bristled, his shoulders tensing up as he recalled the incident, "I got scared when that one held a knife to your throat." He frowned and inhaled a quick breath, exhaling his words. 

"I saw red; I wanted nothing more than to tear him to shreds." He said coldly.

Graham didn't doubt him anymore.

He gently took Alex's hand into his, the other man allowing him to link their fingers together.

In return, Graham smiled right in front of Alex, an appreciative one full of warmth.

"Thank you for holding back, I don't want you getting in any more shit because of me." 

Alex shook his head and moved closer to him, his usually cold hand becoming warmer in his grasp.

"I'd do anything for you, love," Alex revealed sincerely, lifting their joined hands and put his free hand over them. 

After tonight, Graham fully believed him. He already knew Alex would go to great lengths for him ever since the night he met the madman. The man had been gone for months; to Graham, it felt like he had never left. Somehow his presence still lingered, whether it was hearing his voice on the phone or seeing him in his dreams. Dreams of them at night running and laughing.

Alex was a black hole; slowly pulling Graham towards him without even touching him. There was no hesitation this time, Graham let himself be taken by him.

He moved closer to Alex until their noses were touching, Alex seemed to get the hint and lowered his head to his own, the puzzle pieces were about to connect until the door opened.

They moved apart when they saw Jamie viewing them, he saw what was about to happen but said nothing and instead cleared his throat. 

"You can come in now," He stated, stepping back inside the room and leaving the door open for them. 

Graham nodded and waited for Alex to enter first, once they were both in did they get to see what was waiting for them. It was a makeshift office that looked two decades out of date, a corkboard on the wooden wall had photographs, articles, sheets of paper with information pinned on it with thumbtacks. An investigation all on one board.

The people sitting at the round table made Graham want to turn right back around.

Damon was there, along with Justine who sat next to him, her friend Donna, and the two other witches who brought them here in the first place. 

"Fucking hell," Graham muttered under his breath.

Damon was obviously told before they entered that he was here, hence why there was no shock. He seemed concerned instead, concern laced with suspicion when he took a gander at Alex. Justine looked indifferent as always. 

Jamie shut and locked the door, standing near the corkboard as he began to speak. 

"Right, now that you've heard from them, let's hear it from these two." Jamie said, nodding at Graham and Alex. "Can you two tell us what happened in the alleyway?"

"Those skinheads attacked me and tried to rob me," Graham explained simply, "Alex stepped in and saved me, that's basically it."

"Is that what happened, Alex?" Donna asked the taller man, her tone didn't sound convinced and it irritated Graham.

"Yes, that's exactly what happened." He responded. 

"You drank their blood after you left them immobilized?" She questioned further.

Alex crossed his arms, his smile all but fake. 

"I did."

"Why?" Donna asked.

"I needed to drink, so why not kill two birds with one stone?" Alex shrugged. 

Donna and the others apart from Damon and Jamie were not pleased by that answer, exchanging quick glances and shakes of the head.

"Alex, you can't do things like that." Justine scolded from the table. "It makes you look suspicious."

"Suspicious?" Alex repeated flatly. "Suspicious how? Still not convinced that I'm not the lunatic?"

"No, we know that you're not the lunatic," Jamie cut in, attempting to simmer down the tension. "We just don't want you scaring people, it'd spell trouble if other witches or a natural saw you."

"I'll wipe their memory, problem solved." Alex brushed off. 

"Our point is, you can't go do things like that when a vampire is believed to be behind this horrifying shit." Jamie went on, his hand running through his hair and sighing, "Things are already bad between vampires and everyone else, the last thing we want is a witch hunt against vampires."

"How ironic," Graham said dryly. "The witches don't want a witch hunt even though they started it."

Justine sat up in her seat and threw a glowering look at Graham, her fingers quietly drumming the table as she spoke up. 

"We didn't start anything," She clarified curtly, "We're the ones trying to keep things in order. Safety is the most important thing right now than freedom."

"How very Soviet of you," Graham quipped. 

Justine's glare didn't lessen and Graham didn't dare look away from her, refusing to give her the pleasure of making him uncomfortable. 

The room seemed to be aware of the situation and Damon broke the silence first.

"We were told you were hurt, but you were healed?" Damon asked Graham calmly. 

"Alex gave me his blood," Graham answered, his eyes on the blonde.

Damon didn't react as he usually did, he silently cracked his fingers and his lips remained a straight line. He wasn’t mad but he wasn't jumping for joy either.

"Well, you're alive and safe at least." He replied neutrally, his attention turning to Alex. 

"How did you find him by the way? I thought you were in France?" 

"Just got back today in the morning," Alex recalled, his head tilted as he dug into his coat pockets and took out a carton of Newports. "I went to my flat and slept until night fell, then I went out to go get some food and drinks since I was going to visit a friend." 

Alex patted his pockets for a lighter, unable to find one until Jamie offered him his to which he gratefully accepted. 

"It was pure luck that I found Graham; I smelled him before I even saw him and the skinheads." Alex continued, he placed the cigarette around his lips and lit it up, giving the lighter back to Jamie.

"Smelled him?" Donna asked in confusion.

The male witch that escorted them whispered to Donna, Graham could only hear the words "bloody" and "senses" from afar.

"We bats also have excellent hearing," Alex reminded them smartly, watching the two witches squirm in their seats with a smile.

"Look, I think we all understood what the fuck happened," Jamie explained hastily, "Alex found Graham, he roughed up the two men, Justin and Annie found the two after they thought it was the madman at it again, end of story. False alarm." 

"Agreed," Damon said, adding nothing more.

"Since there's no reason to panic and no reason to fetch Noel and Liam, I say we call it a night and get some sleep." Jamie inputted, he looked at Alex and Graham and nodded. "You two can go, sorry for the trouble. Let's get a drink sometime, yeah?"

"Of course," Alex agreed in earnest. 

"I believe that's for the best," Justine answered as she got up from her seat. She turned to Graham once more and was met with an obligatory smile this time. "Sorry for the whole interrogation, you can't trust anyone these days." 

"No, you really can't, I suppose," Graham responded, his words sharp and ringing. The irony was stronger than it had ever been. 

Justine seemed to understand how her choice of words sounded out loud and walked away towards Damon, he took her hand in his and they stood in the corner of them talking to each other.

Graham had had enough of this and went outside, ignoring Damon and anyone else around when he went out into the hallway. He headed towards the exit with his fists clenched, the will to hit or break something was becoming quite tempting by the second. 

"Someone's in a hurry," Alex appeared next to him smoothly.

Graham sighed. "I just want to go home."

"I'll take you there, no fucking way am I letting you go on your own," Alex declared with a shake of his head.

Graham slowed down his pace and stopped completely next to Alex, shifting to face him. 

At that moment, he wasn't sure if it was Alex's kind words or actions or how handsome he looked in the yellowed lighting of the abandoned hallway. Smoke blowing through the corner of his mouth, hair covering his eye as he stared back at Graham with what he could describe as affection. 

Affection was something he hadn't seen and as much as he denied it himself, it was what he wanted.

"I want to go out with you," Graham confessed softly.

Alex opened his mouth to remove his cigarette and closed it again, he seemed lost for words for a second until he composed himself. 

"Go out?"

"This week," Graham explained, "Would Saturday night work with you?" 

A wide smile with all teeth bloomed onto Alex's face appearing as though someone had just given him a priceless gift. 

"Where would you like to go?"

"Surprise me," Graham shrugged with a bashful smile.

"Alright then, I will," Alex nodded, his demeanor more enthusiastic than Graham had seen him before.

"It's a date then," Graham affirmed.

Alex linked their arms together as they began to walk out of the building. The door opened and two male witches entered, pushing in and restraining the shaken up skinheads from earlier, both of them bound with some kind of black rope around their wrists.

Graham could see the fear in their faces as they tried to back away from Alex as far as they could when they reached them. Alex suddenly released a scream mixed with a hiss and threw his head back in laughter as the two men cried out and backed themselves into a corner.

"Never gets old," He proclaimed in amusement.

Graham took a quick glance at the two, cowering men, his eyes catching Damon further back into the hallway, watching the scene with a frown and his arms crossed. 

There would be many reasons why Damon would be put out and he didn't want to waste his time guessing.

He knew he was several of his reasons though, along with Alex.

_He made his choice. Now I'll make mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will await them Saturday night? You'll see!
> 
> (Warning: chapter contains graphic imagery of blood and bodily injuries.)


	4. mon amie la rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Alex go out and a strange occurrence happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you've all been safe and healthy. I was originally going to post a week ago, but things here in the states have gone from bad to worse socially as some of you might already know. As if COVID-19 wasn't enough, police brutality had to join in. These are dark times and I hope this story helps bring a little bit of brightness into your days. With that said, please enjoy. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Françoise Hardy

Graham stood in the center of the bathtub with his eyes shut, warm water pouring over him as he scrubbed his body with the soap and rag. He liked long showers. It was normal for him to lose track of time in here.

He counted the minutes as they went by, stopping the faucet when fifteen had passed. 

Tonight was not the night to linger in the water as much as his body and sore muscles protested.

Checking that he was all clean, he pulled the faucet lever upwards and the water stopped, leaving him with steam. Pushing back the curtains, he stepped out of the tub and onto the mat, grabbing the bath towel and dried himself before wrapping it around his waist. 

He ignored the change of temperature when he got out of the bathroom and hurried to his bedroom, opening his closet and began to select several items of clothing.

He tossed the clothing onto the bed and grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser. He removed his towel and slipped on the light blue pair, examining his body in the mirror. Eyes zeroed in on one of his legs and he pinched the skin where this thigh connected with the lower half of his leg. He was careful not to touch the purple bruise above it.

Graham noticed that he managed to get some more muscle in his legs, all the afternoon skating was paying off after all. He was still quite skinny, at least he had somewhat of a build now. A build covered in faded bruises, but a build nonetheless.

He continued to dress, he put on a black and white striped shirt and jeans, fixing every wrinkle and making sure everything was zipped and buttoned. He turned in a circle in front of the mirror and sighed, he seemed well put together enough.

After slipping on his black converse, he checked the alarm clock on his nightstand.

Six-forty-seven. Only thirteen minutes until Alex arrives. 

He wasted no time as he tried to make his flat more presentable. Graham picked up stray pieces of clothing and threw them into the laundry basket, placed any dirty dishes in the sink to wash later, and organized his books and art supplies. 

As he was about to light a candle in his room, there was a knock on his door. 

Graham blew out the match, tossing it into the waste bin. It could only be one person.

He checked himself out in the mirror one last time before walking over to the front door. On instinct, he checked the peephole and smiled, moving back to open the door.

Alex stood at the doorway, sporting a coat with a red jumper underneath, trousers with oxford shoes below, all in black as usual. 

The taller man took in the sight of Graham and smiled, knowing Graham did the same to him.

"How do I look?" He asked.

"Better dressed than I am," Graham answered with a chuckle.

"Ah, don't say that. I happen to like your neverending amount of striped shirts, even though I would never wear stripes." He grinned.

"You look great," Graham answered again genuinely.

"As do you," Alex complimented back, "May I come in?"

Graham nodded and stepped aside for him but Alex didn't budge.

"You have to say it," He reminded him lightly with a slight bow of his head.

"Right, sorry," Graham apologized sheepishly, "You may come in."

Alex thanked him and walked in, smiling in relief as he inspected the flat.

"I see that you did some cleaning." He stated casually.

"It needed a bit of going over," Graham addressed as he closed the door. 

"I have to agree with that, you're not really the type to tidy things up steadily," Alex smirked as he went inside Graham's kitchen. 

Graham followed him in and watched as Alex began to raid his fridge, crossing his arms.

"What? You didn't gorge yourself enough in Paris?" 

Alex smirked and glanced at him, proceeding to search the shelves. 

"Enough is never enough for me," He replied cheekily. "Besides, I won't be dying of heart disease anytime soon." 

"If ever," Graham chuckled.

A shadow of unease passed over Alex's face for just a second until he smiled again, closing the refrigerator and bit into a red apple from a bag that Graham had bought today. 

Graham was going to say something before Alex stepped out of the kitchen and went into his living room. He followed suit and saw him inspecting his shelves which piqued Graham's curiosity.

"Looking for something?" He asked.

Alex beamed, pearly whites showing. "No need, already found it," He reached in one of the record shelves that held out a vinyl that Graham didn't recognize in triumph. "Knew I left it here."

Graham went over to Alex and scanned the vinyl, a Francoise Hardy record.

"Huh, I didn't even notice you left it." 

"You been neglecting poor Madame Hardy, Graham?" Alex pouted as he pressed the vinyl to his own chest.

"Been listening to a lot of The Who lately," Graham shrugged.

"When _don't_ you listen to The Who?" Alex replied smartly as he placed the record on the coffee table.

Graham made a small grin. 

"So where we're going then?"

Alex paced the room with a mischievous smile, bouncing the bitten apple from one hand to the other.

"Thought I'd take you to go see a film."

"What? _Interview with the Vampire?_ " Graham smirked.

Alex stopped playing around with the apple, his expression crossed between amusement and displeasure. 

"No one will shut the fuck up about that damn film and it's driving me mad." 

"Oh, have I offended you?" Graham giggled, moving to his coat rack. 

"It's not your fault, love," Alex said offhandedly, he bit into the apple and chewed. "It's that damn Anne Rice's fault," He mumbled, finishing off the apple as Graham put on his dark green jacket.

"What are we really going to see then?" Graham asked.

Alex dragged an imaginary zipper across his smile and went over to the front door.

"You did tell me to surprise you." 

"Better not be a horror film," Graham warned as he flicked the light switch by the door. He opened the front door and locked it from the hallway with his keys once they were both in the hallway.

"Shall we go?" Graham directed at Alex with a small smile.

Alex grinned, standing right by him as he linked their arms together.

"Let's."

-

They arrived at the semi-packed local theater, Graham paid for their tickets at the booth while Alex paid for the snacks. Even though the man was practically dead, his stomach was anything but. 

Or was he? Graham began to think as he entered the warmer and blue-purplish lighting in the area covered in white tiled flooring, the sounds of arcade games towards the left of the lobby. Alex didn't visually appear dead, even with his skin tone and cheekbones. 

If anything, the man was the life of the party. He had more stamina in him that could last him the whole day while Graham could barely last an hour or two. Alex would never run out of things to say unlike him who would stop the minute he felt like he was boring someone.

Clearly, Alex wasn't bored by him. He felt some relief in that. 

It made sense that he was once close friends with Damon, someone like Alex could keep up with his antics and vice versa. At least they would tolerate it.

Graham realized he must look strange standing in the middle of the lobby staring off into nothing and went towards the concessions. 

When he spotted Alex with a bag of sweets, he wasn't alone. Another man around their age with dressed in a long black coat jacket and a pallid face was with him, his thin frame along with his dark styled hair gave him away as Brett. The man Graham met not too long ago. 

The world really was getting smaller by the day.

Graham approached the two, both turning to him when he came into their eye of sight.

"Ah, there you are! I ran into Brett here," Alex cheerfully stated. "Not sure if you know him."

"Sort of, we met briefly at Mystic House." Graham acknowledged him with a polite smile. "Hello, Brett."

"Hello Graham, Alex tells me you two are gonna see to see a movie together," Brett said casually.

"Yeah, don't know which one though since won't tell me."

"Is it that foreign film that they're showing until-" Brett began before he was caught off by a loud shush by Alex.

"You'll spoil the surprise!" Alex scolded not too seriously.

"Oh, just tell me what it is, we're already here," Graham dismissed. 

" _Last Year at Marienbad_ ," Alex gave in with a sigh.

"Is it Italian?" Graham asked.

"French," Alex answered.

"Of course it is," Graham replied with a shake of his head, smiling.

"You'll like it, I swear it," Alex promised eagerly. 

"I'll hold you to that," Graham replied with a quiet laugh.

Alex's smile grew when he heard his laugh, Graham himself not noticing their stares lingered for a bit too long until he heard Brett clear his throat.

"Well," Brett folded his hands together, looking almost amused. Akin to someone who just discovered a secret. "I hope you two enjoy the film, I should be getting home."

"So soon?" Alex questioned. "I always assumed you were a night owl, Brett."

"Trying to fix some bad sleeping habits," Brett admitted, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

"Good luck with that, at least you don't have to worry about sunlight." Alex joked.

"Right," Brett smiled, "Nice to meet you two again, enjoy your date." He said his goodbye and strolled with elegance towards the exit, catching the stares of a group of three women huddled together nearby. Something that must be quite common for Brett. Alex too.

_Not for me_ , Graham thought.

"You know him well?" Graham asked Alex as soon as Brett was out of earshot. 

"Not really," Alex said with a shake of his head. "We're not friends, but not enemies either."

"You know him through Damon then?" 

Alex made a bitter laugh, his smile with teeth impish. 

"Something like that," He said as he walked towards the theatres, Graham walking beside him. 

"You remember how I said Damon didn't like me?"

"Before he didn't, now he tolerates you," Graham corrected. 

"Ah, yes! He _tolerates_ me now, silly me!" Alex confirmed, his sentence dripping with sarcasm. "Anyway, that's nothing to how he feels about Brett." He peeked the number on the ticket that Graham was holding and scanned the corridor.

"How does he feel about him?" Graham questioned.

"Oh, he loathes him," Alex responded much too casually.

"Why?" Graham furrowed his brows. 

"Well, my theory- Oh, here it is!" Alex stopped himself when he found their theatre and pulled open the door, allowing Graham to go in first. "My theory is that he's jealous of him." He lowered his voice when finishing his words as they went inside the dimly lit room.

"Jealous?" Graham repeated as he stuck close to Alex.

"Jealous that people think he's a better warlock than him or witch, whatever they call each other," Alex brushed off. "Here's a good spot." He pointed out towards the top of the rows of seats, he rushed to the seats and Graham followed him in haste. He sat down next to the taller man and began to look down into the room and saw the few people inside. Graham was pleased.

The fewer people, the better and more comfortable he was.

He heard the sound of unwrapping and turned to see Alex digging into a bag of Maltesers to which he offered him some, Graham taking a few into his hand. 

"Damon's a competitive person," Graham said, "When it comes to music or witchcraft."

"And relationships of course," Alex added straightforwardly.

Graham chewed slowly, swallowing both the sweet and his pride when he asked the question. 

"Is it true that Justine left Brett for Damon?" 

"Yes," Alex said, no sugarcoating and no hesitation. 

Graham wanted to ask one more question, he himself hesitated as usual. 

The lights began to dim as the promos rolled one by one, Graham decided to save it for later.

The film eventually began to play, opening into a black and white scenery of a time long gone.  
A grand hotel with frigid décor that Graham would be afraid of touching in real life. Too fearful that the slightest touch would cause it to break. A garden with marble statues and grass, endless corridors, and extravagant bedrooms. Personally, he would never stay in a hotel like that.

The people in the film didn't act like everyday people, they seemed lost. Entranced. Stuck like they were controlled by an invisible force. Everything seemed like a dream. Then the man and the woman came along, both of them nameless. It was then he began to really pay attention halfway through the film.

"I used to see this all the time when I was younger, Damon and I would spend hours trying to know what to make of it," Alex whispered to him, his eyes still on the screen. 

A funny feeling began to take hold of Graham. Not dread, nor unease, but recognition. The words they spoke, he could detect them before they uttered them. He had never seen this film and he knew what they were going to say. He remembered the next scene that he had never seen before.

The man claimed to know the woman but she denied it. 

"Try to remember." The man replied. 

Graham blinked and he saw a flash of a young face with blonde hair. 

His breathing got shaky and he kept his eyes on the screen, watching an argument unfold between the man and the woman.

"What bedroom? I've never been in any bedroom with you!" The woman answered obviously quite frustrated. 

"You won't remember…..because you're afraid." The man stated. 

He took a photograph out of his suit pocket and showed it to her. 

"And you don't recognize this photo either?" He asked expectantly.

The river in his dreams popped into his head again and the voice of the young boy spoke to him. 

_Graham, do you trust me?_

The light of a camera flash made his vision go white and he heard laughter from two boys. 

Graham shut his eyes tightly when the screen seemed to get brighter. The voices and images didn't stop playing in his head. The water, the faces at Stanway, an art studio that he'd never been in. The tree with the boy hidden in its branches, blue eyes staring back at him.

_Just trust me!_

_Graham, come join us!_

_Race you to the river!_

_Graham!_

"Graham," Alex's voice cut in like a dagger, bringing him out of his visions. His eyes snapped open and he looked down to see Alex's hand on his tightly clenched fist. The light fixtures around the room were flickering on and off, the few people complaining loudly and some were getting out of their seats. 

"Breathe, keep your eyes on me," Alex instructed calmly while his face showed worry. 

Graham nodded and did as he said, breaths in and out slowly. The lights faded once more after a few tense seconds and the attendees sat back down, Alex blowing out a sigh of relief.

"What was that all about?" Alex questioned in concern. 

Graham gulped and shook his head.

"Dunno, I, uh," He tried to speak, his mouth unable to keep up with his head's racing thoughts, "I think it was the film."

"You could have told me you didn't like it," Alex smirked.

"No, no, it's not that." Graham waved off, his hands running down his face. He stopped and leaned forward to Alex, his voice lighter as he spoke.

"Something's been going on with me, I'm seeing things and I'm doing things that I can't control."

"I've noticed," Alex nodded, "I think you can do more than just read minds, love."

"I don't like it," Graham confessed, stroking the nape of his neck. "I-I already have a lot on my mind, I don't want to deal with this as well."

Alex covered his free hand with his own, a silent calming technique.

"One thing at a time, let's go outside. We can talk about this privately without any old biddies trying to listen in." He offered.

Graham didn't fight him on it, he didn't want to know what would happen if he kept watching.

"Yeah, that's for the best."

Alex took his hand and led him out of the theatre, French dialogue growing more distant as they scaled down the stairs and went out into the corridor. 

"Sorry about the film," Graham apologized, "I did enjoy some of it before I spazzed out."

"Don't fuss over it, I've already seen it dozens of times," Alex dismissed, shaking his head. 

Graham glanced to his left and right and spoke when he saw no one around. 

"I knew what was going to happen in the film, I remembered lines and scenes, but I don't remember ever seeing this film before," Graham began to explain, "I kept hearing voices, I saw faces that I've only seen in my dreams."

"Faces?" Alex repeated.

"A boy, a young boy," Graham replied, "He knew my name, he knew my parents."

"What did he look like?"

"He was …. blonde," Graham looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall every detail he could. "Blue eyes, around twelve or eleven."

"What was his name?" Alex asked.

"I don't know," Graham shook his head. "I don't know what the hell is going on with me." He added forlornly, running a hand down his face and huffing in exhaustion. "I just want to be fucking normal."

"I think that's out of the picture now," Alex smiled softly, stepping closer and placing his hand on the side of Graham's arm. "Besides, normality is for boring people. And you're far from boring, Graham." He complimented with such sincerity.

A part of Graham was starting to believe it too. 

"I guess I'm not, there are much more boring things." Graham folded his arms and smiled. "Like taxes."

"Pasta without cheese," Alex smirked.

Graham's smile grew wider. 

"ABBA."

Alex's eyes widened. 

"Oi, you take that back!" He playfully poked his chest.

"You actually like ABBA, Alex?" Graham asked in disbelief, eyebrows raised.

"The hate against them is unjustified!" Alex vehemently declared with a proud face, "They were the seventies!"

Graham scrunched up his face and laughed.

"I can't take you seriously anymore."

"I have a soft spot for _Fernando_ ," Alex admitted with a grin. " _Lay All Your Love On Me_ is a good one too."

"Oh, please stop! For God's sake!" Graham covered his ears and trudged towards the exit laughing.

He was stopped when Alex caught up to him, wrapping his arms around from behind, grinning from ear to ear when Graham turned his head to see him.

"Never," Alex whispered into his ear conspiringly.

Graham gazed at him, words were lost on him being so close to the taller man. So he kissed the corner of his mouth instead, smiling against his cold skin when he felt Alex's sharp inhale of breath.

Graham pulled back and swore he saw a bit of color in Alex's cheeks. Maybe it was just the lighting.

"How about we go back to my place? We can eat properly and we can debate this as much as we like? And let's not forget about your visions." Alex suggested earnestly. 

"Alright, but the true answer is The Who is what made the seventies." Graham shot back. 

Alex made the face of someone who just got tickets to see an ABBA concert.

"The night is young, still plenty of time to change your mind." He winked.

"We'll see about that," Graham said as they began to walk together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen next? Alex laying the moves on Graham or forcing him to listen to ABBA? Neither? Both? I won't say! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I'll update as soon as I can!


	5. strangelove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Alex engage in conversations and other things. Meanwhile, two mages watch out for danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, I hope you've all been sane and healthy. I apologize for the wait, but work has been hectic and I've been spending time with my family, friends, and partner. I barely had any free time to do any editing and I'm glad to finally be updating. I also got distracted writing material for another fic which I should really focus on more. Also, the rating has finally changed, spookier and explicit things to come. Enjoy this new update! 
> 
> Chapter title is from Depeche Mode

Alex's freezing flat was dark as he stepped inside, the only light coming from the hallway. Graham hugged himself for warmth. It felt like he was staring out in the middle of nowhere than in the comfort of a flat. They both hung up their jackets in the coat hanger next to the door.

The door then shut behind him, leaving them in the pitch black. The hairs began to stand on the back of his head, but not in fear. 

"Hang on a second," Alex said from a corner in the room. 

And then there was light, a lamp from a side table in the living room was on. Graham could finally see more clearly. He watched as Alex turned on the stereo next to the bookshelf packed with books and records. 

Depeche Mode broke the silence as Alex wandered over to him with a smile. 

"You can sit down if you're like, no need to stand."

"Right, I know," Graham nodded, "Just a bit cold."

"Oh sorry, hang on," Alex apologized as he sped over to the thermostat nearby the entrance. He twisted to the dial to the right and went back over to him.

"I don't really get cold anymore," He explained, "It should warm up in a few minutes."

Graham thanked him, he cast his eyes down to stop focusing on Alex's lips and he walked to the bookshelf and stereo, looking around the rest of the flat while he was at it. Minimal furniture. It wasn't posh by any means, but not things that looked like hand-me-downs. 

Alex was a man of style, not the type of style you'd see on some modeling magazine. The type you see in a film, an older film. Possibly around Audrey Hepburn's time, he had that air of timelessness about him. Time was something Alex had plenty of when he really thought about it.

His fingers filtered through the spines of books and record covers, examining a sample of Alex's mind and his source of inspiration. They shared the same taste in music mostly, books were a slight difference. Alex leaned towards the Romantics, Keats, Dickinson, Victor Hugo obviously. 

For science, there was the occasional book penned by Carl Sagan as Graham already knew that Alex had an obsession with astronomy as he did with cheese. Stephen Hawking was present, along with biographies about Edwin Hubble and Georges Lemaître.

"I still need to get Sagan's latest publication," Alex answered from behind.

Graham turned to him and saw the two glasses of red wine in his hands, accepting the one that Alex was offering to him. 

"Which one is that?" 

"It's called Pale Blue Dot," Alex answered, "He wrote it in the inspiration of that famous photograph of Earth about four years ago, remember?"

"I think so, yeah," Graham tilted his head, recalling news and articles of the event in random magazines. 

Alex sipped from his glass and continued his explanation. 

"It was taken from billions of kilometers away, it was nothing but a tiny dot. A pale blue dot shining in the darkness of space." Alex mused with a smile. "How fascinating is that?"

Graham drank slowly from his glass while he thought up an answer.

"I think it's rather frightening."

"In what way?" Alex inquired, tilting his head. 

"That we might be all alone in the universe," Graham said.

Alex's smile grew. 

"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." He recited smoothly.

"Carl Sagan?" Graham asked.

"Arthur C. Clarke." Alex corrected him, taking a sip from his glass. 

"I think you should have picked Astronomy as your major," Graham inputted with a hint of suggestion attached to it, "Since you're so fascinated by it."

Alex snorted and shook his head. 

"As much as I'd like to study it, maths is not my best subject." He stated as he set the glass down on his coffee table adorned with coasters and a few stray CD's. "French is good enough for me and mum and dad didn't object."

Graham drank more from his glass before doing the same. 

"At least your parents don't give you a hard time over your decisions."

"Yeah, you told me your old man's not fond of you being an artist," Alex recalled with a nod. 

"He thinks I'm wasting my time."

"You're a grown man, Graham, you should do whatever you like."

Graham murmured a _yeah_ and stepped over to the window, watching nothing in particular. His thoughts wavering over to his future all of a sudden, something that Damon would do a lot. Surely he would be able to do something with his life. He had no plans to work in the art gallery forever, it would at least help him broaden his horizons and expose him to the art world.

_That is if they would even pay any attention to you._

He felt Alex's presence behind him and allowed him to relax against his chest when the taller man wrapped his hands around his waist. A quiet sigh escaped from his lips and the smallest hint of warmth enclosed around him. Whether it was coming himself or Alex's minimal body heat, it was a nice comfort that he had almost forgotten about. 

"You still don't believe it, do you?" Alex suddenly asked. 

"Believe what?" Graham said as he turned his head to look at Alex, his hands still on him. 

"That you're an interesting and gorgeous man." Alex clarified with a sad smile. 

"But I'm not." 

"Yes, you are. I'll continue to say it until it gets through to that thick skull of yours." 

"Alex," Graham began with a slow shake of his head. "There are plenty of other witches-" 

"Stop right there," Alex ordered firmly, his hands on his waist tightening. "Did you not see what happened earlier at the theatre?" 

"Yes, but I don't know what that has to do-" Graham started.

"It means there's something you don't know about yourself, something still undiscovered," Alex cut in more calmly, the edge in his words faded. "How can you judge a book if you don't finish the entire story?"

"I don't think that's the proper phrase," Graham protested jokingly, his smirk turning into a bashful smile when Alex shifted his body towards him completely.

"Still the same point, innit?" He grinned.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" 

"I believe I am." 

They wore matching grins and their eyes got into the now usual habit of lingering onto each other longer than normal. It was getting easier by the day to really see Alex, there were fewer urges to look away, they weren't entirely gone as Alex still said comments that would often make him laugh in derision or shake his head.

Was it pleasing to know that Alex enjoyed looking at him as well? Graham couldn't say that it wasn't. The exact opposite in fact. Did being in close contact with him always make Graham's breathing more restricted? Embarrassingly, yes. The bastard had a knack for charming his way into your thoughts.

Alex could leave right now and find a nice girl walking around town, chat her up for a few minutes and take her anywhere they wanted with enthusiasm. And yet he was here with him. 

Even when he left for Paris, Alex still thought of him. He remembered him. He remembered when others would usually forget or barely try to reconnect. There was no pity or some kind of obligation. There was only mutual liking and growing trust. Graham wanted to expand on that trust now.

He brought one hand to the taller man's cheek, skin cold to his touch and his smile bloomed when he saw the contraction of his pupils. Hypnotic eyes resembling the darkness of space. Alex's eyes closed for only a moment but opened once more, he was positively glowing. 

Surprise. Relief. Arousal. Alex said nothing and neither did he. Instead, they kissed. 

It was chaste at first, Graham slowly moved in as did Alex in lowering his head slightly, their lips connected softly and fit perfectly. The chill of his lips soon grew warm, a gentle caress that soothed all of Graham's nerves that were going haywire a few seconds before. 

One of Alex's hands cupped the back of his neck and the kiss deepened, growing more passionate as the seconds drew on. Graham parted his lips, his cheeks growing hot as he felt his tongue come into contact with Alex's. 

A discreet involuntary moan slipped out of him and Alex's excellent hearing picked up on it. The taller man began backing him up towards the couch, Graham got the hint and pulled them both down on it with Alex on top of him. 

Alex separated their lips and grinned at him, their breaths heavy as Graham stared back into his glassy eye that wasn't covered by his hair.

"I forgot what we were talking about," Graham remarked when he caught his breath. 

"Doesn't matter now, I think I wanna keep doing this instead," He said, repositioning their bodies so they were now laying side by side.

"So do I," Graham agreed with a blissful smile and they resumed kissing, Alex's hands ran down his back while Graham kept his on the other man's chest. Everything was quick, electrifying, and very much thrilling. 

Alex's mouth moved from his lips to down his neck, Graham inhaling a deep breath and bit back another moan when he felt his velvety lips dance across his neck and throat. He tilted his head back further to give him more access, shivering when Alex began to leave gentle bites on his skin. 

"A-Alex," He murmured, already losing his train of thought when Alex lifted his shirt up halfway. Nearly gasping when his cold hands ran down his skin, he arched his back and felt himself growing hard in his trousers. Graham was almost ashamed of how desperate he was to be touched, to feel pleasure. Almost ashamed. 

In turn, Graham grabbed the hem of Alex's jumper and yanked at it upwards, Alex finished the job for him by pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Graham's eyes become attached to his bare, white chest, raising a hand to touch his skin delicately. 

Alex suddenly grabbed his wrist and smirked.

"I want to see you." His request sounding more like a command.

Graham began to look away before Alex took his chin between his fingers and had him face him again. Eyes piercing him, he was transparent in his hold. Alex was the one reading his mind now.

"Don't be embarrassed, I know you'll look amazing." He smiled.

Graham scoffed and allowed Alex to remove his shirt, trying to squirm underneath his hungry gaze when he was shirtless. He flinched when Alex lowered his head to kiss at his chest and collarbone, fingers trailing up and down his sides. Goosebumps formed on his arms and Graham's sigh came out trembling a tad. 

"Too much?" Alex asked, lifting his head.

Graham shook his head and pushed back a few strands of Alex's hair from his eyes, both of them chuckling from the action.

"No, I think we should get more comfortable, don't you think?" 

"Excellent idea." Alex declared as he got off the couch and pulled Graham up to his feet, kissing him deeply for a few seconds.

Graham moved back with an impish smile, his hands moved to Alex's trousers and undid the button and zipper, he stopped when he felt his bulge in his briefs. He yanked his hand back and chastised himself internally. Why was he acting like it was the first time he's touched a cock? It certainly wasn't. 

"Something wrong?" Alex tilted in his head in confusion.

Graham laughed to himself and glanced up briefly. He had no choice but to say what he was thinking, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

"No, nothing," He started bashfully, "It's just …. I was wondering if it would feel different."

Alex's confusion remained until he understood the implication of the sentence. 

"Oh, I see," He replied, he didn't seem offended or bothered so the red flags went down in Graham's mind. Alex's grin grew mischievous as he stepped out of his shoes. "You're concerned that I might be cold down there."

"Sort of, yes," Graham ducked his head down in embarrassment. "Please don't judge me."

Alex pulled him close again and Graham gasped when his bare chest collided with Alex's chilling one, the taller man snorting out a laugh. 

"You bastard!" Graham exclaimed, playfully punching Alex's bicep. 

"Sorry, the temptation was just too great to resist," Alex apologized with no real remorse and plenty of amusement. "I can assure you that it's not the case with my bits."

Graham chuckled and pecked a quick kiss on Alex's jaw. 

"Good to know." 

He toed off his shoes and socks and began to unbuckle his belt, Alex watching him as he did so. 

"You don't have to stare all the time."

"I'd like to, I like watching you anyway." 

Graham hid his blush and dropped the belt onto the growing pile of clothes. He backed away from Alex with a smirk and padded over to where his bedroom was. Hearing Alex's light footsteps behind him, he quickened his pace. He wasn't fast enough apparently when he was lifted up by him and hoisted him over his shoulder. He yelped in surprise and then burst into laughter.

"Put me down!"

"As you wish," Alex jovially said, carrying him into his dimly lit bedroom and dropped him onto his bed. 

Graham's laughter died down, his smile softening as he slid forward at the edge of the bed. He started to pull down his trousers, Alex moving to help as he removed them, hovering over him with a look of hunger. 

He repaid the favor by reaching up to kiss Alex, his hands working on lowering Alex's pants. The taller man moved back and did the rest, stepping out of his pants and socks, leaving him standing in his nicely fit black briefs. Graham, out of habit, glanced downwards and he corrected himself instantly. He gazed up at Alex who smiled back at him, turning nearly wolfish as Graham slid back to the center of the bed. 

He closed his eyes and he felt the bed shift under Alex's weight and opened them again to see him on top of him. Watching him with the same fascination that he usually had. It was something that he accepted, accepting that he was beautiful for a second. 

Alex's thumb rubbed the edge of his lower lip, he leaned down and pressed another kiss on them. 

Graham placed his hands on Alex's back, losing himself in their connection and shivered when one hand ran through his hair. The other rubbing his member through the thin material of his underwear. 

It was then when his conscience spoke to him. 

Slow down.

Graham pulled away from the kiss and took in air, gulping. 

"Alex, hang on."

"What's wrong?" He asked in worry.

"Nothing," Graham shook his head, dispelling any fears him with a rub of his back. "I just … I know, I know you want to do more and I want to as well, but I don't think I can tonight."

"Too fast?" Alex asked.

"Yeah."

Alex nodded in understanding and smirked. 

"I should have known better, I won't rush anything with you," He admitted profusely, "No matter how fuckable you look right now."

Graham rolled his eyes and smiled. 

"You're a tosser, Alex James."

"And you're lovely, Graham Coxon." Alex retorted slyly, pressing kisses against his jaw and throat. Graham sighed in pleasure and his eyelids slipped shut. 

"Are you trying to change my mind?"

"No, just like making you feel nice," Alex murmured against his skin. "Is it working though?"

Graham laughed quietly and began to sit up, Alex copying his movements. 

"No sex on the first date, but I will allow this," He said, gesturing between their bodies.

"So proper," Alex teased with a grin.

"One of us has to be."

"I'm proper when I really try."

Alex got out of the bed and grabbed the remote on his nightstand, switching on the TV. 

"Want me to bring the wine?" He offered.

"Yes, please." Graham smiled.

"I could also bring cheese, grapes, and crackers."

"If you insist, there's no need to do all that."

Alex had already left for the kitchen as soon as he said insist. Graham took the remote and flipped through the channels and stopped at a music video countdown. Coincidentally enough, they were playing one of Morrissey's videos and he watched in slight interest. 

"Did you ever went to the concert?" Alex asked.

Graham dropped the remote and immediately composed himself, reaching down to pick it up.

"Oh, sorry love," Alex apologized as he set down the glasses of wine carefully on the nightstand and the plate of treats on the bed. 

"It's alright, I keep forgetting you're not human." 

Alex only winked and sat back on the bed next to him. 

"I did, by the way," Graham remembered to answer as Alex passed him his glass. "I went with a friend from the art department," He turned to view Alex, a small smile gracing his face. 

"I would have preferred to have gone with you, but you were away."

Alex smiled and wrapped an arm around Graham's waist, kissing his cheek.

"Next time." He promised.

"Next time," Graham repeated. 

The wine and cheese disappeared after time, there would be more to talk about later. All Graham wanted was to kiss Alex and to listen to his rant about why ABBA doesn't deserve the hate they get.

They stayed up nearly all night until he grew tired, he only remembered his head touching the pillow and Alex getting up to pull the blackout curtains shut. He heard his whisper in his ear as he drifted off to sleep. 

"Goodnight, Graham."

➳

Noel was tired of this shit. He could be out on the town getting a drink or watching a game instead of doing patrol. Instead, he was sitting in their car and listening to the White Album on his fifth cigarette for the night. 

Liam was in the back seat taking a nap while he kept watching as it was his turn. 

At least he was getting paid or else he would have never agreed to do this on a Saturday night. 

Noel glanced at the clock outside in the quiet street. 

Sunday night now. It was already two in the morning. 

He took one last puff of his cigarette and stubbed out what little was left in the ashtray, flicking out the butt out of the open window. 

Blowing out the smoke, he opened the glove compartment and reached for the bag of pickled onion rings. He ripped the bag open and ate a few, Liam shifting his sleep behind him. 

The minutes dragged on and he rolled up the bag, placing it back in the compartment. Liam yawned and stretched his arms.

"Anythin'?" He asked sleepily.

"Nah, nothin'," Noel answered, wiping his hands with a napkin. 

Liam groaned and sat up, leaning back against the car door.

"Fuck this, we should get out of 'ere."

"We can't, you want us not to get paid?" 

"This fuckin' psycho hasn't been seen in a month, maybe someone got to him or he did us all a favor and offed himself!" Liam ranted his theory. 

"We need to pay bills, man. It's either this or construction, which you'd prefer?" Noel demanded. 

Liam crossed his arms and sniffed. Noel knew he would pick this than the long and hard hours any day. Sitting in a car over bad backs, carrying bricks, shoveling dirt was better even if it was boring. This lookout shit paid better too.

Loud banging noises erupted from across the street, trash cans scattering out on the road. 

Not so boring anymore. Noel grabbed his cricket bat that was on the passenger seat and Liam jumped on it in its place. 

"Don't make a sound," Noel ordered quietly. 

The two brothers watched the road, waiting with their weapons and instincts at the ready.

A figure ran out from behind a car covered in blood, a young man running towards them at full speed. 

The brothers got out of the car and Noel raised his bat, ready to strike until the man fell to his knees and raised his arms above his head.

"P-PLEASE! DON'T HURT ME!"

"You better give us a good explanation of why you're covered in blood!" Noel yelled at him. 

"It's him! The killer, he nearly got me! He was using me blood for a message!" The young man's ghostly face cowered and on the verge of his tears, his blonde hair appearing drained of color too. 

"Where'd he run off to?!" Liam barked. 

"He went the other way!" The young man pointed south trembling. "H-He started trashing 'bout like he was in pain and he ran off! He cut my leg and was using my blood to write something on the wall! You can see for yourself!" 

Noel stayed with the young man while Liam checked out the message on the brick wall. There were obvious signs of a struggle and fresh blood on the ground. He scanned the messy crimson writing and read what it said.

**THE WITCH WILL DIE ON THE TWELFTH OF MARCH**

Liam took out his disposable camera from his parka pocket and snapped a picture, running back to Noel and the bleeding young man. 

"What did it say?" Noel asked. 

"Somethin' 'bout a witch dying in March, we need to call it in and get this bloke patched up," Liam answered, putting the camera away. 

"Right, let's get a move on." Noel huffed.

Definitely not the excitement he wanted tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be in someone else's POV, three guesses who!


	6. quiet life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon; fairly adjusted into his new life, receives a message from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you're all happy and healthy! I'm glad to be updating this fic again and I've had a lot of fun writing this chapter. :) I won't say that this is my all time favorite, but it's certainly up there. Have a good read!
> 
> Chapter title is from Japan

The room was chilly with the wind sneaking inside through the small space of the partially open window. Normally around this time of year, Damon would shut the window entirely to prevent the cold bite of the wind even though he felt more than warm enough.

Today, he didn't really mind. Plus he needed fresh air anyway.

Damon sat on the window ledge, one leg up and the other on the floor as he looked aimlessly outside. He took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray placed next to him.

No more for today, He promised himself. If he could even keep that promise at the end of the day.

Damon got up from the ledge to pull the window shut and went over to the kitchen. Opening his cabinet, he grabbed the same bottle of vitamins and popped two tablets into his mouth. _Two in the morning and two just before bed, the mantra repeated in his head._

His tongue tasted of oranges as he went to the bedroom, stepping over the small pile of books and binders that had accumulated on the floor. Some related to school, others to the craft. Lately, his life had been dedicated more to the latter.

Justine was going to drop by in an hour, he reminded himself to put the kettle on a few minutes before she arrives and fixes up his bedroom. Or what little resemblance of a bedroom it actually was. His bed a mess, his books and records in boxes, along with a bunch of other belongings he didn't want to leave behind. 

When Justine called him earlier, he knew he had something on her mind while they were speaking. Perhaps it was regarding bringing over his belongings to her flat. It had been about a week since he decided on moving in with her and he still hadn't fully come to terms with it yet.

It wasn't that he was looking forward to the move, it was more of the fact that he had a feeling of déjà vu. He had done this before with Justine, the two of them decide to share their lives together in the same space. Now was their second try and Damon wouldn't dare to jinx it this time around. 

Things between him and her had improved, their communication was more open and their affection remained with tea in the afternoon, studying together, and late-night tv. Bed at a certain time together to be warm and later to sleep. 

No fighting, no heroin, and no Brett. 

Life now was school, Justine, Jamie, going to pubs, watching football, and being in his room. 

Not much different than it was two years ago, minus the football. A new hobby of his. 

The other difference wasn't around back then and its absence was dawning on him every day.

He dreamt of him last night; his faint smile, the way his fingers moved gracefully on his guitar, his habit of touching his hair when he was nervous.

Damon pushed him out of his thoughts and shut his eyes.

As much as he tried, he would think of Graham once a day, sometimes more.

The frustration and sadness from that night he met the killer remerging had swallowed Damon whole in guilt. He let down Graham not once, but twice. He wasn't there for him when he fought the madman, Alex and the Gallaghers of all fucking people had to save him. 

The fucking _Gallaghers_ did more than he did and it embarrassed him. Infuriated him.

The second time was directly his fault. He blocked it out of his head but it always came back to him around night, Graham's face of shock and his words fueled with fury played like a skipping record when he found it hard to sleep. 

The hurt remained even though it faded little by little after Graham ceased all communication with him. As much as it bothered him, he knew he had no right to complain. It was his doing after all that led them here. To this silence and separation; their bond broken. 

Like he did previously, he tried to move on. Jamie spoke with him, he drank a bit too much on certain days when Justine wasn't around to wag her finger at him. On the days she was around, they spoke in lengthy conversations, smoked, made tea, and fucked when they were in the mood. 

It was just like how everything was before, Damon wondered how long the peace would last.

He wondered if it would be him or her that would cast the first stone. He hoped there would be none of that; that they were both on the same page.

He decided to continue packing later and went back into the kitchen, filling up the kettle with water and placing it on the stove. He grabbed his paperback copy of _Siddartha_ and plopped himself down on the couch, flipping to his dog-eared page and began to read. 

He had read nine and a half pages when the whistle blew and the front door unlocked, Jamie shuffling in and shutting the door. 

"Hey," Damon greeted as he put his book on the coffee table and strolled into the kitchen, turning off the stove. 

"Hey," Jamie responded, taking off his jacket and scarf and hanging them on the coat rack. "Fuck, it's getting colder every day!" 

"Christmas is only a month away," Damon expounded. 

"That reminds me, you going to back to Colchester this year?" Jamie asked as he walked into the kitchen, heading straight towards the refrigerator.

Damon nodded. "I'll probably spend New Year's there as well."

"Justine is tagging along?" Jamie asked, taking out plastic containing pasta inside. 

"Yeah, she came with me before, so she'll probably go again," Damon answered as he poured the steaming water into a mug.

Jamie closed the fridge, giving Damon a wary look.

"You didn't ask her yet?" 

"I'm going to when she comes over." 

"Alright then," Jamie did a half shoulder shrug and placed his food on the counter. "Let me know how that goes."

"You think she'll say no," Damon stated flatly. 

"I didn't say that," Jamie said, grabbing a fork and pointing it at Damon. "I think you should wait before you start making plans. What if she wants to see her family this year? Or for you to come with her?"

Damon sighed and fished out a teabag from the peppermint tin. "Yeah. Yeah, I get your point."

"Just want you two not have a misunderstanding," Jamie clarified with a smile. "You and she have gone on well since you got back with each other." 

"We have, haven't we?" Damon said, a smile slowly stretching onto his face.

"Much better now that you're both off smack," Jamie admitted. "How long has it been now?"

"One year, eight months, and ten days," Damon scratched his head, forming a messy small tuft on top. "I believe so, yeah."

"Two-year milestone's nearly here," Jamie grinned as he poured the pasta into a bowl. "You've done good, mate."

"I'll congratulate myself once I've reached it," Damon affirmed, staring into his tea mug. The water turning into a glossy amber when the teabag sunk in. 

"You will reach it, mate. Alright?" Jamie said with firm assurance, probably picking up on whatever small doubt that Damon had. It was there, not enough to make him nervous, but still there either way. 

Damon made it through the first year without a single relapse. There were a few close calls, all of them avoided thanks to Jamie, Dave, and Jarvis. Mostly it was Jamie doing the heavy work, the other man nearly socking him when he locked the bathroom while he was taking a shower. Jamie had caught him previously heating up a spoon from a stash he had hidden a few days before.

There were no locked doors allowed in their flat for two months; if Damon had anything to say about it, he had to face Jamie's wrath. Two stressed out, quick-tempered men made out for an extremely tense situation. 

He would prefer the fights any day over the first days of withdrawal. 

Sickness. Unease. Pain. Tears. Sweat. 

Many sleepless nights, how many exactly were forgotten. A miserable blur. 

Something he never wanted to go through again. It was a resistance he had to fight when he was frustrated or stressed. He'll keep resisting even past the two-year milestone and many more years as he possibly can.

Damon went into their living room with his tea and Jamie heated up his food in the kitchen. He sat down on their couch and picked up the remote from the coffee table, turning on the TV.

He left it on the news for a few short minutes, updating himself on what was going on these days in the world. Unemployment rates were down to less than three million. _Vicar of Dibley_ was receiving great reviews. Damon changed the channel to entertainment. They were still doing reruns of Nirvana's _MTV Unplugged_ session. 

"Let the poor sod rest already," He muttered as he changed the channel again. Drinking his tea, he channel surfed, flashes of nature, commercials, movie scenes and he stopped at a random channel when he moved over to give Jamie some space. 

"Nothing good?" He asked.

Damon shrugged and handed him the remote. 

"Not really, maybe you'll find something."

Jamie accepted it and switched the channels, eventually leaving the screen on a showing of _Tales from the Crypt._

"Haven't seen this one in a minute," Jamie smiled and lied back against the couch. 

Damon smirked. "Jessica used to be terrified of this film. Until I made her watch it with me one night."

"Did she get mad at you?" Jamie asked.

"No, she screamed a few times but she got over her fear," Damon answered as he recalled the memory with a chuckle.

The two men watched the screen with fixed attention when Joan Collins' character began to lock up the house to ward off the demented Santa Claus. They also watched as she tried to cover up her husband's murder. It made the viewer feel both contempt and concern for her. 

Damon went to get more tea and stopped when he heard knocking at the door.

"I'll get it," He said to Jamie as he approached the entrance, unlocking the door and opening it. 

Justine waved and smiled, inviting herself in and pressed a kiss to Damon's lower lip.

"Hey, missed you," She said gently as she pulled back.

"Missed you as well," Damon grinned as he closed the door. "The kettle's still hot, you want a cuppa?" 

"I'd love some, yeah," Justine said, removing her jacket and hanging it up on one of the hooks. 

"Hello, Justine!" Jamie called out from the couch, waving his hand lazily.

"Hello!" She greeted, angling her head to the right to spot the TV. "What are you two watching?"

" _Tales from the Crypt_ , the murderess is getting strangled by Saint Nick!" Jamie watched in excitement.

Justine followed Damon to the kitchen, screams of horror in the background as he poured the boiling water into a mug. 

"Earl gray? Black?" Damon offered. 

"Earl gray," She answered, sitting up onto the counter and watched Damon with a smile. 

Damon prepped her tea, soaking the little bag into the steaming black mug.

"So I wanted to ask, is there anything you want to bring over tonight?" She asked.

Straight to the point, as usual, something he admired about Justine. However, today he was hoping for more meaningful conversation than just the subject of moving.

"Yeah, a few things," Damon answered casually, pouring the sugar and cream. "Not too much for tonight." He stirred the tea with a spoon before handing it to her with care, Justine smiling and thanking him as she accepted.

Damon turned to view her, both of them had matching smiles, Justine spoke after a careful sip from her mug.

"Your books and records?"

"We'll focus on the rest tomorrow."

She nodded in agreement. 

"Alright then, tomorrow," She concluded and then moved on. "How was your day?"

"Finished my assignments, did some shopping," Damon shrugged. "Nothing special really."

"Did you do the spell today?"

Damon held her gaze until he looked away, shaking his head. 

"No, I haven't."

Justine blinked and set down her mug beside her on the counter. 

"How come?"

"I don't want to focus on that right now."

"You've had plenty of time not to focus on it," Justine stated nonchalantly. No gentle scolding present, not yet. 

"I know I have, I just need more time, alright?" Damon quipped, the frustration leaking out for just a moment. It was enough to get Justine's attention.

"I'm not rushing you, Day," She added, her eyes peering into his when he faced her again. "I don't want to rush you, it's just you've said the same thing last month." 

Damon sighed. 

"I know it's important to you that I do this," Damon started, his voice low and distant. "I will do it one day, I promise you."

"It's not for me, Day," Justine shook her head. "It's for you, for you to forgive yourself." She made her point by pulling the front of his shirt to her, which he allowed being closer to her. He could make out what was left of her perfume and pressed a kiss to her neck.

"I know," He gave in and sighed again, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

Moving in with Justine didn't give him any cold feet anymore. It was the spell that did.

The New Life spell that he learned years ago. 

It was a simple enough spell and Damon had done it before after he became fully clean from smack. All it took was a few candles and an incantation. He felt a release after it was finished, refreshed, and ready to seize the day.

Why was it hard for him to perform it again?

Justine cupped his face and pressed a chaste kiss which Damon deepened, earning a soft laugh from her. 

"I love you," Damon murmured against her lips.

"And I love you," She whispered, pulling her back and picking up her tea. 

The front door opened and closed, Jamie walked into the kitchen and held up a few letters and a magazine. 

"Forgot to check the mail, mate." 

"Oh, sorry," Damon apologized, not entirely focused on Jamie.

"Just 'cos you're moving out doesn't mean you get to slack off," He teased, shuffling through the mail. 

"You're not my mother," Damon stuck out his tongue. 

"Speaking of your mother," Jamie smiled as he held out an envelope for him. "Mail for you."

Damon quickly snatched it from his hands, smiling warmly. 

"You must be one of the few blokes that actually write to their mother," Jamie smirked.

"Because I respect her and love her unlike some other blokes out there," Damon declared, peeling open the envelope and pulling out the letter and unfolding it. He began to examine its contents and recognized Hazel's writing, along with the smell of saffron.

_Dear Damon,_

_I know it's been a while since our last letter exchange, so I thought I'd start it up again. Phone calls just aren't simply enough for me. I know how you much love doing things that remind you of a bygone era._

_Christmas is almost here and your father and I can't wait to see you and Jessica back at home this year. I hope Justine has been doing well since our last phone call. We're quite pleased that you two worked things out and we wish you two nothing but the best. It's always good to give things a second chance._

_You'll be getting your degree soon and I'm simply overjoyed. You make me proud to be your mother every day, my darling. You're a brave young man and a talented witch._

_The future will hold wonderful things for you._

_Love, Mum._

_P.S: I found this photograph in your room a few months ago and I completely forgot to send it to you. It's of you and Alex, but I don't recognize the boy with you two. Do you remember him?_

Damon furrowed his brows and saw a polaroid in the envelope. He set down the letter on the kitchen counter and took the photograph out. It was partially burned in the corner for some reason, there was nothing on the back so he flipped it around.

It was of him and Alex around maybe twelve or thirteen, they were standing outside in front of a tree smiling at the camera. Another boy stood in between them.

A boy with glasses and dark hair. 

Damon's eyes widened.

A boy smiling shyly amongst two wide grins.

His mouth opened to speak but nothing came out.

There were initials under the photo, his initials, and the boy's.

_D.A G.C A.J_

The boy was the spitting image of Graham Coxon. 

Damon couldn't tear his eyes away from the photograph, his heart racing in his chest.

When was this taken? There was no date. Why didn't he remember this? He had no recollection of this photo ever being taken. 

"Day, you alright?" Jamie asked in obvious concern from behind.

"Damon?" Justine said, placing her hand on his arm.

Damon didn't respond, he bolted towards the living room and ran into a chair on the way to his room, it skidded across the floor as he went past it to his room.

"Day, what's gotten into you?" Jamie called out as he went after him.

Damon placed the photograph on his bed and got down on his knees, reaching underneath his bed and yanked out a average sized wooden chest. He unlocked the hatch and opened the lid, rummaging through his numerous materials. He threw out notebooks, drawings, knick-knacks, toys from childhood until he found what he was looking for at the bottom of the chest. 

Jamie and Justine entered his room as he unearthed the photo album that he had for many years. Far back even before childhood. He opened it and turned the pages, flicking by memories of picnics, days in the art studio, his brief time in Turkey. 

And then he found the picture. 

"Damon, what's going on?" Justine asked worryingly.

Damon stared at the photo of him and Alex sitting down in front of the same tree that was in the other photograph Hazel had sent him. 

He got up and looked at Justine, he was torn about letting her know or not. He had to make sure for certain if it was he thinks it is.

"Can you leave me and Jamie alone for a minute? I promise I'll explain." He pleaded.

Justine appeared reluctant, but she obliged him anyway. Her eyes darted to him and Jamie before she stalked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Day, explain yourself," Jamie demanded, "You scared me and Justine when you went stormed off like that."

Damon set the photo album on the bed and picked up the singed polaroid, raising it to Jamie's head. 

"Tell me who do you see in this picture." He insisted on him.

Jamie squinted his eyes, it took him a second and they widened in alarm. 

"Is that-"

"Graham." Damon nodded.

Jamie glanced at the picture again. 

"But you said you didn't know him."

"I didn't."

"He's right there with you and Alex!" He pointed at the photograph.

"I know!" Damon blurted out indignantly. "I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind." He ran a hand down his face, beginning to pace.

"This is weird, mate. Too fucking weird even for us," Jamie said, shaking his head.

"I did know Graham, somehow. It has to be him." Damon muttered as he stared the polaroid. 

"Maybe it was someone that just looks like him?" Jamie chimed in. "Doppelgangers do exist."

"With the same exact initials?" Damon made a forced laugh and shook his head. "Too many similarities to be a mere coincidence."

"It's Graham, I don't know how, but apparently I knew him. The thing is, I don't remember ever meeting him."

"And so did Alex."

Damon's lips pursed.

"If he knew, I swear I'll kill him."

"He doesn't, he would have said something if he did." Jamie placated.

Damon stopped pacing and stroked his chin, eyes still locked on the image. 

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have to find him and see him."

"You said he did a spell to ward you off." Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"I'll find a way," Damon dismissed. 

"And Justine?" Jamie asked.

Damon inspected the door from far away as if he could see Justine from behind. This was going to be a pain to explain to her. So much for the peace that he was looking forward to.

"I'll deal with it." He answered finally with defeat.

Damon sat down on the bed and sighed heavily, touching the beaded necklace around his neck.

The first thing he had to do was talk to Justine. 

The second was to find Graham. 

The third, well, he'll figure that out along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will our dear Damon do? You'll all find out soon! The next couple of chapters from here on out are going to be a roller-coaster, chaotic but fun. ;) See you in the next update. xoxo


	7. dark and long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Alex go out and enjoy themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, back with another update! This one took more time to finish and edit than I usually do because there were several ways I wanted this chapter to go. Plus the fact that it was going to be too long for one chapter, so I had to cut it in half! I'm extremely picky when it comes to these things. I did celebrate my birthday on the 6th with my family and that also delayed my posting. I hope you like it!
> 
> Chapter title is from Underworld

The TV played in the living room as Graham worked on his current task in his little hole in the world. He carefully cut red wrapping paper into a square and stripped off pieces of tape.

Graham placed the black gift box in the center of the bright red wrapping paper and began to carefully take each corner and fold them around the box, eventually creating a nicely wrapped present and he taped the corners. Smiling, he stuck a piece of tape to the black ribbon bow to the top of the box. His creation complete and ready.

Just in the nick of time. Tonight was the nineteenth and Alex's birthday was only two days away. 

After everything he had done for him, Graham had to get him something he would cherish. 

He picked up and examined the gift before feeling satisfied, he set it back down and got up from his desk, hunger now getting to him. He stepped into his kitchen and opened his refrigerator, letting out a sigh of disappointment when he found practically nothing inside. 

A carton of milk that hopefully wasn't out of date, condiments, a few bottles of beer, and some vegetables that still appeared edible. Alex would be horrified at the state of it. Horrified and crossed with him. He could already make out the lecture that he wasn't eating properly and instantly drag him to their nearest market. 

"He's not gonna like this." He said to no one.

Five quick knocks sounded out from his front door. 

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

Graham smiled and closed the refrigerator. He walked over to the front door, unlocking it, and opened it wide. Alex stood there bundled up in his black coat and smiled wide, dimples in full force. His hair appearing styled and unkempt, only Alex could pull off something like that. 

"Hey Graham," Alex said, his name punctuated and spoken with glee.

"Hello," He greeted him with a bashful smile. "Come in."

Alex went inside and Graham shut the door closed. 

As soon as he turned around to speak, Alex closed the distance between them and brought their lips into a deep kiss. Graham's eyes slipped shut and he melted into it, Alex's hands cupping his face while Graham grasped at his shoulders.

They continued to kiss for almost a full minute until they both pulled away for breath, beaming at each other like giddy teenagers up to no good.

"What's gotten into you?" Graham asked a little out of breath. 

"What, I'm not allowed to kiss you?" Alex teased. 

"That was more of a snog than a kiss," Graham remarked. 

"Tomato, to-mah-to," Alex smiled impishly. He walked into the kitchen with a skip in his step, Graham fixing his mussed up hair as he followed him. Hearing the door open followed by a gasp, he started to smile.

"Graham, what's the meaning of this!?" Alex all too dramatically demanded. "This is a disgrace! You don't even have anything for a simple fry-up!"

"Sorry, forgot to do some shopping over the week," Graham explained in an apologetic manner, he sat upon the countertop as Alex opened the milk carton and sniffed at the opening, pulling back with a grimace. 

"Even your milk's spoiled, how are you even walking right now?" Alex asked him appearing flabbergasted. 

"Takeout," Graham made a one-shoulder shrug. _And forgetting to eat at certain hours of the day._

Alex tutted and tossed the expired milk into the bin.

"We're going to the market first thing in the morning, no objections!"

"Yes, mum," Graham chuckled.

"Tonight, however," Alex continued as his mock stern expression faded into a grin, "We're going out to have some fun."

Graham tilted his head.

"Where?"

"Heaven," Alex answered.

"Getting poetic on me, are you?"

"No, _The Heaven_ ," Alex clarified, grin still in place. "The club."

"You serious?" Graham questioned skeptically. "You want to go there?"

"Why not?" Alex questioned in return.

"It's a gay club."

"A gay club that plays the best techno, your point?" 

"You won't mind being seen there?"

Alex tutted once more and drew himself closer to Graham, one of his hands rested on his shoulder.

"You worry too much, Graham. I'm sure Damon has already told you so."

Graham averted his eyes down to his lap, mumbling under his breath.

"And what of it?"

"You don't have to be afraid. You afraid of people knowing you suck cock?"

"I'm afraid of people starting trouble, that's all," Graham confessed a little louder this time. "I wasn't ashamed of being with Damon or anything."

There was a beat of silence, Alex's hand began to slide down his shoulder.

"Are you ashamed of being 'round me?"

"No!" Graham interjected quickly, his eyes back on Alex's face. Just in time to spot the relief that flashed through him.

"I like being with you, I like you very much." He added softly.

"Then come with me tonight, you'll enjoy yourself," Alex insisted with a determined smile. "When's the last time you've really let yourself go?"

Graham thought about it and the more he thought, the fewer answers he had. Getting piss drunk didn't count as having fun, at least not something that he wouldn't remember in the morning with a pounding headache.

"Don't remember." He admitted dully. He really did need to go out more.

"Well, there's your answer. We're going to Heaven," Alex announced excitedly. "Not literally, but close enough." He ended with a wink. 

"Right then, let's go." Graham agreed with a smile.

-

All it took was a flash of their ID cards to the bored bouncer who merely glanced at them before letting them through the crowded club. Graham took a breath as he was led by Alex into the chaotic and colorful nightclub. They took a spare moment to pass off their coats to the clerk near the front entrance, surrounded by racks of coats and jackets.

The dance floor was invisible; the vast majority of men with the speckle of women danced together. An array of colors highlighted their ecstatic and euphoric faces. Beams of hot pink, bright yellow, light blue, and green crisscrossed around the club. 

Graham got a whiff of smoke and drink as he drifted along the sea of bodies, his grip on Alex's hand beginning to lessen as they went further into the crowd. He called for Alex, letting out a breath when Alex miraculously heard him through the loud bumping of the music.

"You alright?!" Alex yelled, moving back close to him. 

"Yeah, I just need a drink first!" Graham yelled back.

Alex nodded and nudged his head to the left. 

"Follow me!"

Alex led him to the general direction of the bar, it was packed to no surprise and they stopped at the edge of the bar. 

"What do you want?!" Alex asked. 

"Pick for me!" Graham answered back, "Nothing too strong!"

Alex went towards the barman and held up two fingers, sliding a bill on the counter. Within less than a minute, he came back with two shot glasses and handed one to Graham.

"Tequila!?" Graham inquired.

"Whiskey! You said nothing too strong!" Alex grinned. "Chin, chin!"

They clinked their glasses and downed their glasses in one gulp. 

Graham scrunched up his nose and gulped again. 

"Not a whiskey man, but it does the trick I suppose!" Graham shrugged off.

"I'll get tequila for the next one then!" Alex took their glasses and placed them on an empty table.

"I suppose we should dance now, yeah?"

"That's the point of a club, innit?" 

Graham shook his head with a growing smile. 

"Alright, I'm a terrible dancer, just thought you should know in advance!" He warned playfully, the kick in his nerves already in motion.

"All the more reason to dance, it's the perfect teaching opportunity!" Alex said casually and pointed to the dancefloor. 

After squeezing their way through people, Alex found a small opening in the crowd where Graham's mild claustrophobia wouldn't come over him. 

Alex began moving to the music and brought Graham close to him, one hand on the waist and the other on the small of his back. 

Graham didn't blink, his eyes were locked on Alex. A kaleidoscope of colors framing his profile as a hallucination of some kind, a mesmerizing one at that. The taller man grinned and they began to sway with the music, a slow pace to get started. 

The surroundings were so loud, he could barely hear his own thoughts. Then again, there was no need to think about anything. Not in this corner of the world. Here, people were able to fully be themselves. There was no backing away to be at a respectable distance, no separating joined hands. 

In Heaven, there were kisses. Embraces. Lustful and loving stares. 

Sort of like the stare that Alex was giving him, was it lustful or loving? Perhaps both.

Graham gazed at him through his eyelashes and matched Alex's smile. He watched in excitement as Alex's fingers pressed onto his waist, swallowing something invisible. 

Now it was lustful. Graham was pleased. 

He leaned forward and crushed his lips against Alex's clumsily, regaining his rhythm as Alex deepened the kiss, everything else became background noise.

Underworld blared around them as they kissed, pulling back after a long minute to breathe in much needed air. Graham stared into Alex's eyes in a trance, none of the vampires's doing. For once, Alex seemed to be lost for words. He only stared back at Graham with a grin, one of his hands went up to the side of his neck and pulled him into another kiss. 

Graham shivered against his lips from both pleasure and cold. Alex's fingers were bone-chilling than usual. Was that normal? 

"Alex, you're cold," Graham said as he pulled back. 

"I know," He smirked. 

"You're much too cold, have you fed today?" 

Alex's smirk turned into a guilty smile. 

"Not since this morning." 

Graham shook his head. 

"Where's the loo?" 

"It's on the left, why?" 

"Come on!" Graham said, ignoring Alex's question and leading him to the bathroom.

Not to his shock, the loo was crowded. Nearly all the stalls were occupied and people walked in and out, some drunk, some obviously high. Graham waited in front of Alex for an opening impatiently, his feet shuffling in anticipation.

A minute later, a drunk twink covered in glitter stumbled out of a stall and told his friend by the sink to wait for him. Graham and Alex bolted to the stall before anyone else could get to it and Graham locked the bolt as soon as they were in the cramped space. Two blokes did a wolf whistle and another offered a rubber to them.

"They think we're gonna fuck." Graham scoffed.

"Can you blame them?" Alex giggled. 

It was in here that Graham finally got a proper look at the taller man again, his skin devoid of any color which only worried Graham further. 

"Alex, you look like you're going to faint!" He complained and placed his hand on Alex's cheek. He felt chilling and clammy to the touch. 

"Please, don't fuss," Alex interjected, taking his wrist and pressing an icy kiss against it. "I'm alright, I'll feed when we get back home."

Graham scanned his features for a few seconds, shaking his head quickly as he came to a decision.

"No, you need blood now." He stated in a low voice in case anyone would hear.

Without any hesitation, he pulled off his shirt and breathed shakily as his skin was exposed to the temperature of the room. He instantly felt Alex's hands on him and his back was moved against the stall, pinning him between it and the taller man. 

"You want me to drink from you? Are you sure?" He asked slowly, his voice smoky and formal. It was all Graham needed to know that Alex was not considering this a joking matter. 

Graham matched his gaze and nodded, watching as Alex's pupils dilated. His confirmation gaining a soft grin from him. 

With that, Alex lowered his head and pressed kisses onto the side of his neck; Graham tilting his head back to give him better access. His breath hitched as the slight scrape of pointed teeth dotted his skin. 

"Will it hurt?" Graham asked quietly. 

"Only for a moment," Alex answered truthfully, "Then you'll feel much better." He promised, pressing one more kiss and whispered into his ear. 

"Ready?"

Graham closed his eyes and placed both of his hands on Alex's chest, allowing the last of his fears and doubts to escape through his sigh.

"Yes." His final answer.

Alex said nothing else and Graham waited until he felt pressure and the breaking of skin as the fangs punctured through, the sharp pain was immediate. Graham let out a barely contained whimper, his hands pulling at the fabric of Alex's shirt. 

The pain went away and then came something much better as he promised; pleasure. 

Graham's hands loosened and his eyes fluttered as Alex drank from him. He could feel small trails of blood sliding down his neck. Every noise around him faded out of existence, he only heard his heartbeat and the sound of his slow breathing. 

If only he could hear Alex's thoughts.

=

The taste of blood was different in blood bags from clinics and strangers. From the former, it was cold and artificial-like, the latter; thirst-quenching save for the occasional sprinkling of drugs that left a lingering taste in their blood. It was far from a pleasant feeling to have hints of heroin on his tongue when he fed on some stranger.

Graham's blood, however, was everything he thought it would be.

Non-polluted, warm, bittersweet. It reminded him of dark chocolate. The blood filled his mouth and went down his throat smoothly, Alex kept his hand on the back of Graham's head and the other on his back as he continued feeding. 

He also made sure to feel Graham's pulse, he just needed a small amount of blood to keep him satisfied until tomorrow and to keep Graham on his feet. If he drank too much, Graham would be out of energy. He had heard horror stories of newly made vampires not learning how to control themselves and accidentally draining the person they were feeding from. 

_Never._ He would never forgive himself if he did anything like that. Especially to Graham. He wasn't a monster contrary to popular belief at the moment.

Alex felt he was replenished enough and removed his fangs from Graham's neck, licking a stripe up his neck to clean off the remaining blood, smiling as Graham made a shuddering moan.

He gazed at Graham, watching his eyes open once more as he focused them on him.

"Thank you," Alex said with a red-tinted smile.

Graham gulped and smiled back.

"Anytime." 

Graham leaned forward and brought their lips together, Alex surprised at his indifference to the fresh blood on his mouth.

Their bloody kiss ended after a long blissful minute, Graham moved back with a sigh and stared up at him with his own tinted smile.

"I think we should go back to your flat."

Alex raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Do you now? Whatever for?"

"Do you really need me to say it out loud?" Graham implored with a light chuckle.

"Yes," Alex answered, his smirk growing as he hooked a finger under Graham's chin to pull him into another kiss, a quick one to hear his response properly. "I really do." 

Graham appeared bashful, adjusting his glasses and leaned in close again to him, their noses almost touching as he whispered his confession. 

"I want to go to bed with you." 

A rush of adrenaline began to fill his body and Alex couldn't help but straighten his posture, his body betraying the excitement and pride that was running through him. Those words that came out of Graham's mouth were nearly enough to make him hard. 

"With pleasure, let's go home." He answered with a grin. 

As soon as Graham's shirt was on and the blood was wiped clean from their faces, they bolted out of the loo and out of the club, only stopping to pick up their jackets. 

They put Heaven behind them as they stepped outside, Alex signaled for a cabbie and took Graham's hand when the closest one available stopped a few feet away from the two. They jumped in the backseat, Graham closing the door and Alex divulged his address to the cabbie.

The car moved and so did Alex, his lips on Graham, and smiled when he made a slight gasp. Graham pushed his hands against his chest, his words coming out hushed and panicked.

"Alex, the driver." He alerted him, "He'll kick us out." 

"Ignore him, he's not even paying attention," Alex dismissed, attempting to close the distance between them before Graham placed his fingers to his lips. 

"Wait, can I see them?" Graham requested curiously. 

"My fangs?" Alex inquired.

Graham glanced quickly at the cabbie and gave him a nod. 

Alex's smile turned impish. 

"Alright then." 

He opened his mouth to bare his teeth, his fangs slowly revealing themselves. 

He watched Graham's curiosity turn into awe, his head tilting as he touched one of the fangs with the tip of his finger for a second, he drew his hand back like he'd been shocked.

"It's quite sharp." He remarked with a nervous laugh.

"They are indeed, I did tell you wouldn't feel much pain." Alex pointed out with a proud smirk.

"Next time, don't nearly starve yourself to drink from me." Graham scolded him. 

"So there will be a next time?" Alex's hopes became lifted, his hand tracing his neck and going into his personal space. 

Graham was trying not to smile when the cab suddenly screeched into a stop, his head turning to face the middle aged cabbie that glared at them through the partition. 

"Listen here, poofs. You can do what you like in that club, but there'll be none of that in this car!" He grunted out. 

"We're paying customers, we're not doing anything wrong." Alex retorted with a frown. 

"You lot do plenty! You people have no respect for others!" The man began to rant. "No respect at all, all of you flaunting yourselves and passing off AIDS everywhere you go!"

"Oh, sod off," Graham shot back with a scoff. "C'mon, Alex." He said as he grabbed the door handle. 

"No," Alex said calmly, his voice low and even. "We're not going anywhere." He was not going to let some idiot spoil this night for him and Graham.

He spotted Graham's shake of his head from the corner of his eye as he watched the cabbie turn his attention over to him. 

"Alex, it's not worth it." Graham pleaded, tugging at his arm. "Let's find another cab."

"You best listen to him," The cabbie said mockingly. "This poof at least knows reason."

_That's it!_

Alex veered himself forward until he was an inch from away the cabbie, the glass partition being the only thing separating them.

"Look at me, you miserable oaf!" Alex commanded, his teeth baring.

The cabbie's shock was temporary, a sadistic satisfaction filled Alex when the bigot went into the trance, his eyes lost and thoughts blank. 

"Are you listening to me?" Alex asked, his sentence curt. 

The cabbie nodded slowly, his mouth half open.

"You're going to keep driving to our destination and you're going to leave us the fuck alone, understand?" Alex ordered firmly. 

The cabbie nodded again. "I understand."

Alex smiled smugly and reclined back against the seat, his eyes still on the bigot cabbie.

"Good, now drive."

The cabbie turned around and resumed driving like nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. The expression on Graham's face was priceless. 

"You can be quite scary, you know that?" He told him matter-of-factly with a smile nonetheless.

Alex leaned back in and Graham welcomed his presence eagerly, his arms wrapping around his neck as he pressed a soft kiss against his mouth. Alex ran his lips gently over his and pressed harder when he felt Graham push back. 

The minutes passed as they kissed and touched each other, Alex savoring every second of this act. It was getting more difficult to not rip off Graham's clothes and fuck him right in this taxi. He smiled wickedly at the thought of the bigot having to clean up the mess they would leave behind.

Eventually, the car rolled to a stop, the cabbie announcing in a quivering voice that they arrived. The two climbed out of the cab and Alex went around to face the driver while Graham waited at the pavement. 

"You're not going to charge us for the ride and you're going to forget that you ever saw us," Alex directed to the cabbie, his eyes burning a hole into the man's face. 

The cabbie nodded and gulped. "I won't charge you, I never saw you."

"And you're not to be rude to any queers ever again," Alex advised flatly. "It'll be bad luck for you." He stepped back from the cab and waved him off. "Off you go."

The cabbie drove off and Alex went over to Graham, the two heading inside the building and scaled upstairs to his flat.

"I've been told a lot of people would kill to have my gift, but I think they'd rather kill to have yours," Graham stated casually as they reached his front door.

"What we have is both equally great, also my gift doesn't work on everyone," Alex said as he pulled out his keys from his trouser pocket.

"Yeah, you said some witches have charms."

"It doesn't work on you and you don't have any charms," Alex recalled, opening the front door and allowing Graham to step in first.

"It doesn't? How do you know? You've tried it on me?" Graham asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I did once, it didn't work," Alex admitted once they were inside. He turned on the lights and saw Graham taking off his jacket and shoes. 

"When?" Graham questioned, looking at him curiously.

"The night I first met you," Alex answered with no hesitation. 

"When you tried to invite back to your flat?" Graham asked incredulously, his eyes widening.

"Guilty as charged." Alex shrugged off his own coat, smiling sheepishly. 

"No wonder you looked so confused," Graham shook his head with a quiet laugh.

Alex threw his coat on the couch and stepped towards Graham, eyes locked onto each other. Graham's smile turned into a coy one, his softly spoken voice bringing them to their next subject.

"You're a bastard, but I really like you."

"You're one of the coolest people I've ever met," Alex confessed warmly. It was true, Graham was different from the other art students. He had his head in the clouds but not in his arse like others roaming around. "I've liked you from the moment I saw you."

Graham was brilliantly artistic but vulnerable; strikingly stylish, but quite awkwardly shy. 

Alex dared not say anything, but he could see himself falling in love with him. Tonight, he would know for sure.

"Alex?" Graham's mention of his name brought him back to reality. 

"Hmm?" Alex said, focusing his stare from Graham's neck with his bite mark to his face.

"I'd like you to fuck me." 

_God must truly love me_ , Alex thought as he beamed at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's gonna be fun. ;)
> 
> Side note: There's a movie called Love and Human Remains from 1993 that I absolutely love that may or may not have given me a little inspiration for this fic. I definitely reccomend it for a nice mystery/romance watch. The main character also reminds me of Alex lol


	8. come to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Alex embrace one another while a spell is attempted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, happy to finally update again! This chapter took more time to finish because I still think I'm pretty amateur when it comes to writing sex scenes. Despite some rewrites, I can say that I'm pleased with how this came out. Sorry for the wait, please don't hate me!
> 
> Chapter title is from Björk

Graham didn't know who made the first move and nor did it matter.

His eyes were closed as he was lifted to the bedroom, Alex's lips pressing kisses against his jaw, his throat. He heard a lamp being switched on and his contented sigh. A sigh that he had missed hearing.

Opening his eyes, he saw the soft lighting of the bedroom and Alex staring at him, his own dark eyes intense as he lowered him onto the bed. The action alone was enough to raise his internal body temperature another ten degrees or so. 

His face suddenly felt hot and it must have shown, Alex's smile transformed into a lewd one. Graham smiled as Alex regarded him closely, his loose dark locks obscuring one eye.

"What shall I do with you, hm?" He asked, tracing Graham's jawline with his pale fingers. 

"I already told you what I want," Graham answered with a smirk. 

"Oh, you did," Alex recalled, lowering himself down until their mouths were nearly touching. "But I'm open to suggestions." 

"Clothes off, then we'll talk." 

Graham and he went to work removing each other's clothing, more of their bodies were revealed as piece by piece was pulled off. Alex took his glasses from him and placed them on his nightstand. He could barely contain his smile as he undid Alex's belt and zipper, allowing the taller man to stand and pull down his trousers without complications. 

A blush heated Graham's cheeks as he viewed the prominent bulge that Alex had, he sat up and rubbed his erection through the black cotton, smiling at the faint groan that he made. 

Graham didn't waste any more time and removed his hand, using it to pull off his own pants, chain clinking as it dropped along with the pile of clothes. His briefs along with it.

He stood up bare in front of Alex, his smile bashful as he placed a hand on his waist. 

"I know we've already seen each other almost nude, but I hope I'm what—"

Alex grabbed him by the waist in response and pulled him close, kissing him with vigor and Graham hummed in pleasure. As they kissed, Graham slid his hands up Alex's body and raked his fingers lightly across his back and neck. 

"The answer is yes, by the way," Alex mumbled between their conjoined lips.

Graham smiled in their kiss when Alex's hold on him tightened, Alex in turn moved their bodies back to the bed and pinned his body against the sheets. A surprised laugh escaped Graham's throat, and then a sigh when the taller man began to kiss him again. 

He parted his lips, Alex deepened their kiss and Graham felt himself growing hard again. This was what he wanted, now more than ever. 

He reached a hand towards Alex's hips and pulled at the elastic on his boxers, lowering the fabric as far as he could. Just enough to reveal Alex's plentiful cock, he wrapped his hand around the base and did a few test strokes. He watched Alex's face as he did so, the shuddering breath he released against his mouth and the closing of his eyes. 

Graham continued to stroke him, slowly and teasingly, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock. Pre-cum pooling at the head.

"Fuck," Alex breathed out, opening his eyes to stare into him. There was so much that Graham could see in them, but the desire was as clear as day. Raw desire, affection, yearning. He craved more and he was more than welcome to give it to him.

"Alex," Graham murmured, nuzzling his nose against his and smiling. 

"Yes, Graham?" He responded quietly, waiting in earnest.

"Lie on your back."

Alex cocked his head in confusion but complied anyway, a smile of interest gracing his features as he shifted to lie back against the covers, briefs forgotten on the floor, He folded his hands over his stomach playfully, waiting for his next request.

"You want to take charge?" He smiled deviously.

Graham moved closer to him and hovered over him as he did the same before. He shook his head and hid his smile not too well. 

"No, I still want you to fuck me," He corrected shyly, "I just want to try something."

"Like?" Alex asked curiously, eyebrow raised.

Graham moved down his body until his face was at Alex's stomach, he glanced up to see Alex gazing at him hungrily, his hands unfolding and reaching to brush his hair. Graham pressed kisses down his skin until he reached his cock, his fingers tracing his scalp as he shifted in his spot. 

They both knew where this was going and Graham was going to try not to disappoint, it had been a while since he'd done this. 

Graham gently took hold of his member, hard and thick in his hands, and licked on the underside. Hearing Alex's sigh of approval, he relaxed his throat and took the tip into his mouth, rolling his tongue slowly around it. He took more of him into his mouth and bobbed his head up and down, sucking him off. 

Alex moaned and one hand grabbed a handful of his hair, his head tilted back in bliss. Graham kept his rhythm, one hand on his hip for balance and the other on the base of his cock. He opened his eyes halfway and watched Alex's chest rise and fall at an irregular pattern.

"Fuck, Graham," was all Alex was able to grunt out. His free hand moving around the bed awkwardly. He knew it was taking much of Alex's willpower not to push his cock in further. The nice gesture was appreciated but Graham was willing to do something new. He hummed in response and lifted his head to speak, taking a quick breath first.

"I think I'd like to deepthroat you."

"I swear, you're going to be the death of me," Alex exhaled, his hands gripping his hair with an excited smile. "And yes, I know that's an ironic choice of words."

Graham smiled back and took him into his mouth again, deeper this time, and felt Alex shiver underneath him. He held him in place as Graham worked him three more times, reaching down one hand to rub his own cock. 

Alex pushed his head down further and he felt the head of his cock tickling the back of his throat, he paused, the both of them learning if it was too much for him to handle. Graham gagged a little and pulled out slowly, dripping saliva on his shaft. His face burned and inhaled a deep breath.

"Fuck—I'm sorry," He sputtered out.

Alex shook his head and sat up straight, motioning for Graham to sit up.

"Don't apologize, that was hot." He remarked, pecking a kiss to the corner of his lips. "I don't want to come just yet though." He added with a crooked grin.

"Do you have any rubbers?" Graham asked, shifting to sit in front of him. 

"I do, but we don't have to use them in this case."

Graham became confused. "Why not?"

Alex smirked. "I'm immortal, love. Remember? Can't get sick, can’t catch anything."

"Oh."

Graham now felt stupid and looked at the sheets, of course, Alex had no use for them. He probably only uses them out of politeness with other people he's slept with.

He chewed on his bottom lip and turned his attention back at Alex, the other watching him intensely, his smirk remaining as if he was guessing the possible thoughts rummaging around his noggin. 

"I've never done it without them." He admitted. 

Alex shrugged and began to move towards his nightstand. 

"We can use them, it's no big deal for me."

Graham stopped him by straddling his lap with both legs, fighting back a grin from the mix of surprise and lust on Alex's face. He enjoyed the few moments that he was able to throw him off.

"I didn't say we couldn't try it out."

Alex pulled his face to his and smashed their lips, Graham eagerly kissing him back. It's a long and filling kiss, a deep kiss, one that he almost never wanted to end. Almost. Breaking the kiss, Graham pulled back to breathe, Alex's hot breath against his mouth.

"Lube?"

Alex nodded and he reached his arm over to his nightstand again, pulling open the drawer and shuffled through the contents until he took out a gel tube. 

"Come closer," Alex said, taking his hand, Graham moved back onto his lap and Alex sat up into a straighter sitting position. 

"Lift up a little," Alex told him, pressing a kiss on his neck. Graham elevated himself a bit, just enough so Alex could reach between his legs. He heard the cap of the lube bottle opening and threaded his fingers into his hair in anxiousness. 

He gripped Alex's shoulder with his other hand and waited, closing his eyes as he felt Alex's lips press against his neck and jaw a couple of times. His kisses a reassurance. Whatever would come next he would enjoy.

And then he felt Alex's chilly fingers slip between his buttocks and circling his entrance, his fingers slick with the warm lube. The different sensations causing a delicious shiver to run down his spine like water. Graham's other hand hanged on tight to his shoulder and he groaned quietly. 

"I'll start slow, ready?" Alex asked.

Graham simply nodded and closed his eyes.

Slowly, Alex pushed two of his fingers inside him, stretching him out as he pushed them in and out at a lazy pace. Graham's whimpers turned into moans, his grip on Alex was steadfast.

He really had missed this more than he thought. The more Alex opened him up, the more relaxed and warmer he became. His fingers continued to move in and out, going deeper as he worked him. After a minute, Graham was ready for more.

"Alex," He said in a soft whisper, his head moving to look at him better. "I need you."

A grin curved Alex's lips and he popped open the cap of the lube once more, Graham watched with a heated stare as he slathered his cock with the lubricant. Alex looked up at him again, Graham looked right back. Static energy in their presence. 

Whatever he was thinking right now, Graham was certain Alex only had him in his thoughts. He likes what he sees, sexually, emotionally, intellectually. He shared the same feelings with him. 

For this time of euphoria, Graham felt beautiful. Only ever having that feeling a few times.

Alex grabbed the globes of his ass and he focused back down at their laps. Graham took his cock into his hand, shifted his position a tad, and guided his cock to his hole. 

Steadily and slowly, Graham sunk himself down onto him. He grimaced with a loud grunt as his cock stretched him out, his thighs already beginning to shake from the sensation. Alex groaned beneath him and his hold on his cheeks grew firmer, indirectly controlling their pace. 

Graham released a breathy moan, his head tilted back in satisfaction when Alex's cock filled him completely to the hilt. The pressure and tension now were gone. All that came next was bliss.

The rhythm began; Alex pulled out slowly and moved back in again, his eyes slipping closed as he slid his cock in and out repeatedly. 

"God, you're so warm," He moaned, his head back against the pillow as he picked up speed. He moved his hands from his ass to his waist, his hold tight and unrelenting. Sure enough to leave marks in the morning. Graham moaned and placed a hand on his chest for balance, his arms becoming shaky now. 

He was surprised that he hadn't managed to come since he had been abstinent for a few months. With solitude came little sex, or in his case, no sex. He was grateful for the delay, it meant more enjoyment with Alex. 

Graham moved forward and kissed Alex as he rocked his hips back and forth, his moans muffled as he rode him. His body no longer chilling as it normally was, Graham probably warmed him up with his own body. He pulled back for air, exhaling his long sigh.

No complaints there. Hot or cold, Alex was proving to be fantastic in bed. 

_Not as warm as he was_ , a voice in his head said. A flash of blonde appearing.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when Alex thrust into him suddenly, a noise between a moan and a yelp erupted from his throat. Alex repeated the action again before he even had any time to react and he threw out a curse. Graham would have smacked him if it hadn't felt fantastic.

Spotting Alex's grin beneath him, he lowered his head down and bit his bare shoulder, not too hard to break the skin even though it probably wouldn't have fazed him. His own payback that actually seemed to have pleased Alex. 

"You did that on purpose, you bastard," Graham said shakenly, a whimper escaping him involuntarily. His teeth leaving his shoulder to cast a mock-playful stare at the all too proud man.

"And you loved it, didn't you?" Alex countered unabashedly, his grin never leaving his face.

"Well, keep going then," Graham ordered, placing his hands on his chest and stood straighter in the cowboy position. He did love it, he was good at driving him mad after all. Both physically and emotionally. 

He smiled at Alex's reaction after he finished that sentence.

-

What a lovely sight that was in front of him. Graham's hair in disarray, his lips reddened, eyes closed and his mouth formed into an O shape as Alex began to slowly fuck him again. Ecstasy suited Graham quite well. 

The stiffness and hesitation that clouded him were nowhere in sight. Relief and a hint of more confidence took its place. His flushed cheeks and the fresh bite mark on his neck, the only colors of his thin canvas of a body. Shades of red and pink.

While Alex was no painter, he can appreciate art when he saw it. And knowing he created Graham's current state of being made him an artist of some sort. Just for this moment.

Alex kept thrusting his cock inside him, going deeper the more he heard Graham's moans and whispered fucks. Each slow thrust dragging him closer to his completion. 

This was better than drink, better than coke or E. Sex isn't dangerous like them, if you're careful at least. 

Graham had bared himself to him, his shyness gone but would return most likely after they were done. The lustful and confident Graham rode him, his hands on his chest patting him briefly to rock his hips again, moving forward to him to be at a more comfortable angle.

Alex took his chance to pick up speed, his hands gripping Graham's waist as he drove into him, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut he felt Graham tighten on his cock for a second. His moans grew louder and became more breathless, matching Alex's pace.

"A-Alex!" Graham nearly yelped, his eyes lost in pleasure. Alex heard him struggle to say the words he wanted to say, eventually not saying anything at all. 

" _Alex_ ," Graham said his name again, it sounded like a prayer this time.

He opened his eyes and saw Graham with his head tilted back, a ghost of a smile on his face. Thighs trembling, one hand stroking his own cock. He was about to reach orgasm and Alex was not going to close his eyes again. 

"I'm close," The younger man said shakily, "I'm so close."

"I know," Alex gritted out, his jaw clenched, his own orgasm approaching fast. It was all coming together beautifully. "I am too."

He groaned and panted along with Graham, keeping in time and watched from below with glazed eyes as the younger man bounced up and down on his cock. 

It was all starting to become too much and Alex used the last of his energy to drive into Graham mercilessly, his pants becoming cries of pleasure as Alex pulled him down to his level. He smashed their lips together and kissed him, waiting for their climax. 

Not a full minute later, they reached euphoria. Graham cried out his name and arched his back instinctually, his eyes fluttered as he came against their stomachs, long white streams coating them. He looked absolutely debauched, it was more than nice to witness.

Alex came right after him with a final moan and shudder, holding on to Graham as he came deep inside him, his thrusts slowing down until he stopped completely. He heard Graham sigh happily, he shifted his gaze back to him and smiled at the afterglow radiating from him. His face pink, his mouth parted as he struggled for breath.

"Graham?" Alex said in worry.

"H-Hang on," Graham replied shakily, swallowing and attempting to breathe normally, his eyes shut in concentration. 

Alex looked back and forth from the pile of clothes to Graham, wondering if he should pass him the inhaler anyway. A long minute passed and nothing happened.

Graham opened his eyes and furrowed his brows.

"Strange," He mused, his eyes focusing on Alex's collarbone. "Normally, I'd have to use my inhaler to get my breath back."

"And now?" Alex asked. 

"It went away, the breathlessness. Just like that." Graham answered, looking back at him.

"So it appears, I must have …. taken your breath away," Alex joked with a smirk.

Graham groaned and buried his head against his chest. 

"You're an idiot."

"You still like me anyway."

Graham lifted his head and chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, I do." He said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips. 

"My blood might have something to do with that," Alex explained informatively as Graham pulled back. "Since our blood usually heals wounds and the like. It'll wear off in a day or two."

"Thanks for that, don't have to use up more of my inhaler tonight." Graham smiled.

He sat up and carefully slipped himself off his cock, Alex groaning quietly as Graham collapsed beside him. 

"That was quite nice, wasn't it?" Alex commented, his voice softer as he turned his head to look at Graham.

Graham mimicked his action, his smile discreet. 

"I'm probably not going to be able to sit down properly tomorrow." 

"You're too kind, love." 

Alex moved towards the nightstand and swiped the box of cigarettes, he then proceeded to lower his hand to the floor. He grabbed his trousers and shook them until his lighter fell out of one of his pockets. Picking up the lighter, he moved back where Graham was and lit up a cigarette.

He leaned back against his pillows, taking a puff and exhaling the smoke, his shoulders relaxing comfortably. Graham shifted onto his back and slid closer to him, the back of his head resting on his shoulder. He arched his head slightly to look at Alex and then to the smoking fag. 

Alex smiled, passing the cigarette to him, and watched him smoke lazily. He pulled the sheets to cover them up in case Graham gets chilly later. Gently, Alex maneuvered his arm around Graham to hold him, the younger man's head now resting on his chest. 

Once there was nothing left but the butt, Alex stubbed out the cigarette on his ashtray and resumed lying comfortably with Graham.

His eyes closed, bathing in this peaceful place in time. It wasn't too long until he heard Graham's soft voice speak up.

"You're my mate." He said, not a question. It didn't sound like one to him yet.

"Yes, I am," Alex agreed cautiously, curious to see where he was going with this.

"Mates don't usually do this sort of thing," Graham continued, chewing on his bottom lip.

Alex didn't reply right away, letting out a sigh before he did.

"So I suppose this was only a one time tryst, eh?" Alex looked at him, smiling sadly. 

"No," Graham quickly answered, angling his head to see him. "That's not I meant." He picked at his nails out of habit, lowering his head in thought. Alex waited until he was ready to explain.

"I just meant …. I was wondering, what we are," Graham eventually explained. "Are we still mates? Or are we something different?" Graham stopped himself and shook his head.

"Forget it, I'm just thinking out loud."

"We don't have to be anything specific," Alex interjected calmly, his gaze still on Graham. "We can be mates, we can be ….. more." He slid his fingers across his neck, halting at his bite that he had left on him. 

"We can be whatever you want." He concluded.

Graham stared at him, appreciation and warmth in his russet eyes. 

"I want us to do more of this."

"You read my mind." Alex smiled. 

"I swear I didn't." 

They both laughed and shared a kiss. 

X

It was another sleepless night for him. 

Damon was looking up at the ceiling in bed, but his thoughts were running at three hundred kilometers per hour. Shifting his position to lay on his side, he shut his eyes. 

The thoughts persisted, they crackled and ceased to stop. The voices, the photograph, the days at Stanway. Wide brown eyes.

He wasn't going to get sleep any time soon. _Fuck it._

Damon tossed off his sheets and got up carefully as not to disturb Justine. He padded barefoot to the living and closed the bedroom door behind with a quiet creak. 

Pacing the living room back and forth, he rubbed his face. He wondered what to do next, the truth was he knew what was keeping him up and he had no way of solving it currently.

His attempts to find Graham had failed again, he couldn't find him anywhere at the places they would frequent, not even at Goldsmiths. Even waiting outside his flat was a bust when one of his neighbors told him that Graham had left for the night with another man.

Tall, dressed in black, dark hair. 

He needed no further explanation. Damon knew that Graham and Alex had gotten closer and he didn't know what to feel about it.

On second thought, he did know. He wasn't pleased. Far from it.

Alex had wanted Graham for himself and he made his intentions known, even if he never explicitly said so. Not even the decency to say it right to his face.

Maybe it was karma making its way back around again. He remembered how he came into contact with Justine after all.

What's done is done. Perhaps it was time to leave it in the past. Leave Graham to his own devices. Live a clean slate with Justine.

Speaking of a clean slate.

Damon's attention went to the boxes of candles still unpacked from the move. He went towards them and opened the lid, pulling out three candles. One white, one red, and one blue. He placed them on the floor in the center of the living room, he then went to the kitchen to collect a glass bowl of rainwater he had collected the night before. 

After placing the bowl next to the candles, he rummaged through Justine's pantry and pulled out the jar of herbs required which was basil, simple enough. 

A minute later, he was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, rainwater mixed in with the basil. He hovered his hand over the candles and lit them one by one.

The white one first, resembling the pure divine light. The blue one next, the knowledge of the universe. Finally, the red one; the passion for life. His personal favorite.

Damon dipped his hands into the water and gently washed his face, the scent of earth and rain on his skin. Now all he had to do was say the words. Justine wrote him a note in case he forgot, but he remembered. 

"Cutting cords, releasing ties. For my past, it's just goodbyes." Damon whispered to himself. 

He pictured a piece of string, one end connected to his wrist. It led him to Graham, the other end tied around his own wrist. Damon pulled his wrist and stretched out the string, the only thing keeping them connected. A pair of silver scissors was between them, he raised it and held it to the string to cut. One snip and he would move on.

Blow out the candles, that was it. 

He stared at the candles, the wax beginning to drip down the sides. His fists clenched on his lap. Shutting his eyes, the imaginary Graham looked back with wounded eyes. The same look he had on that night he nearly died.

Opening his eyes again, he snuffed out the candles with a wave of his hand.

_Can't do it, not tonight._

Damon got up and put away the materials, placing the bowl in the sink. He began heading back to the bedroom when he saw the light blinking on his answering machine. Stopping, he pressed the button and heard the automated voice inform him that he had one new message. 

_Hey Des, I don't know when you'll hear this since you're out with Justine. I hope you two had some fun tonight. Listen, Alex rang me up earlier and he invited me to his birthday party. Completely forgot it was next week._ A pause and then Jamie chuckled. 

_He also said that invitation also extends to you and Justine. So … there's that. I already told him I would go, Dave's going too. I don't know who else is going, but I think you and I know who else will be there. Up to you if you wanna make an appearance. Call me back when you can, alright mate?_

The phone clicked and the machine began talking before Damon shut it off with a slam of the button. Alex's birthday, of course. He wasn't much of a bastard as he thought.

Maybe he didn't have to the spell anyway. He was going to resolve things his own way. 

Just like he's always done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be explosive, in many ways! Stay safe guys!


	9. a day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Alex celebrate his birthday as numerous guests arrive, and gets a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you all had a good Christmas. I would like to apologize for my long absence. These past two months have not been the best for me, emotionally and physically. In early November, I went through two panic attacks due to stress, a recent ailment that's now cured (Unrelated to COVID), and my relationship with my boyfriend of nearly two years had ended. 
> 
> I'm truly sorry for making you guys wait so long, I really wanted to update but I simply did not have the motivation to do anything. I couldn't touch my laptop for almost three weeks. I spent my time trying to better myself in many ways, reading, playing video games, spending time with my loved ones, etc. Recently, I took the time to finally finishing this chapter and doing some edits. I can say that I really did miss writing this fic. 
> 
> I hope this makes up for the long wait.
> 
> Chapter title is from The Beatles

Graham had returned to the river again. The birds chirped and glided above him in the sunny sky, the wind calm as it made the green leaves dance. 

And he was not alone. 

The blonde boy was with him as always, he was by the tree, carving something into the bark with a small dagger. He was wearing the uniform that was worn by Stanway students, Graham looked at his clothes and realized he was wearing them too. 

Graham took off his blazer, folding it before dropping it on the picnic blanket. He bent down to take off his shoes and remove his socks, he stuffed them into his shoes and walked barefoot to the edge of the river. 

"Gonna go for a swim?" The boy asked from afar.

Graham turned to him and shrugged, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"Nah, my mum will kill me if I get my clothes wet."

The boy rolled his eyes and went back to carving the bark.

"It's just clothes, it's not like you're swimming in mud."

"You know how she is," Graham sighed as he dipped his feet into the water, smiling when he saw the tiny fish swim away from his presence. He walked further until the water reached his knees and stopped to go no deeper. He looked down amongst the fish and noticed all the different stones and pebbles on the bottom of the river floor. 

Bending down, he picked up one stone that had the color of coffee and raised it up the sky, water dripping from his hand. It was covered with little black specks, it looked almost like one of his mother's chocolate sweets she had in her cupboard. He slipped it into his trouser pocket to keep.

He searched the water for more stones until he found one that stuck out to him again. He dipped his hand down to snatch up the rock and held it up. The color was a striking shade of grayish-blue. The color of the eyes of the boy he was with. 

He held the stone in his hand as he walked back towards the shore, water splashing around his legs. He had just stepped one foot out of the water when he spotted something moving along the edge of the water. 

Graham gasped and dropped the stone that he was holding. He didn't dare move.

A scorpion of all things was on the shore, it was slowly crawling along the rocks. A metallic greenish-black color coated its exoskeleton, the pincers blackish-red. Colors associated with passion and danger. The tail hovered above the insect with its stinger that would bring pain, perhaps even death. 

Graham backed away quietly as he could, the scorpion not even noticing his presence. He took the chance to search for the stone he dropped and dipped his hands in the water as he bent down. He found it after a few seconds and snatched it up, rising out of the water. 

The scorpion was no longer there; a young boy with dark hair stood at the shore, watching him with a curious stare. He was dressed in a Stanway uniform and had a red lolly in one hand.

He looked familiar, but he couldn't exactly remember from where. Again came the notion that something was keeping him from remembering.

"Doing some fishing, are you?" The boy asked nonchalantly.

Graham fiddled with the rock in his hand and shook his head shyly.

"I-I don't fish."

"Then what are you looking for down there?" The boy questioned him with a growing smile.

"Just stones," Graham answered plainly. 

"Do you collect them?" 

"No, I just liked these two," Graham answered, holding out the stones he picked out to the boy. 

The dark-haired boy stared at them, tilting his head slightly. 

"May I?" The boy asked, pointing a finger at the stones.

Graham nodded and passed the stones over to him, their fingers touching for a split second and he stepped back. The boy inspected the brown stone and held it up to the sky, he cast a glance at Graham and held out the stone for Graham to take back.

"It sort of matches the color of your eyes." He said finally.

Graham's reply was cut short when the blonde boy yelled out a greeting and strolled over to them, dagger still in his hand.

The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow at him when he got closer. "Is that a knife?"

"I'm not gonna shank you if that's what you're worried about," The blonde curtly replied. "You're that new kid from Bournemouth, yeah?" 

"Yes, I am. Is it customary to greet newcomers with a knife?" The dark-haired boy quipped. 

The blonde rolled his eyes and knelt down, sticking the knife into the ground. "It's not, I was just carving the tree with it." He rose up and looked between him and Graham. "So, what's going on here?"

"Graham here was showing me some stones he found."

"How do you know my name?" Graham asked in awe.

The dark-haired boy made a one shoulder shrug. "Teacher was taking attendance."

"And you remembered mine?" 

"Yeah," He beamed proudly and turned to the blonde. "And I remember yours as well."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "So you have a good memory, congratulations."

The dark-haired boy chuckled, the blonde's somewhat rude response seemed to entertain him. He stuck his lolly in his mouth and walked over to their picnic basket, inspecting their treats.

"You two on a date?"

"No!" Graham quickly spoke, averting his gaze to the grass. "We're just eating."

"Either way, you weren't invited." The blonde interjected, crossing his arms.

The taller boy scoffed. "So much for a warm welcome to Colchester." He said smartly as he peered into the small woven basket. "You got any sandwiches?"

"Tell you what," The blonde started, stepping towards the dark-haired boy. "You got something cool to share with us, you can eat with us." He glanced at Graham and nodded. "That seems fair?"

Graham shrugged. "I suppose."

"Don't have any food, I'm afraid." The taller boy shook his head.

"It doesn't have to be food." Graham suggested, "Do you got any coins or anything else?"

The mystery boy dug into one of his trouser pockets and pulled out a blue and gray walkman.

"I only got this, we can take turns listening to it."

"What do you got on there?" Graham asked.

"Duran Duran."

"Everyone listens to Duran Duran," The blonde boy shot back. 

"I also got The Jam in my other pocket."

A reluctant smile appeared on the blonde's face.

"Now you're talking."

The surroundings around them began to blur and the faces faded away, it was then Graham knew he was waking up.

The first thing that brought Graham out of his sleep was shuffling behind him. The second was Alex's cold toes rubbing his legs and his equally cold lips on his shoulder.

Graham was too lazy to push him back and made a muffled noise of protest.

"What time is it?" Graham asked, his voice obscured by the pillow. 

"Don't know, just know it's way past morning." Alex's answer came clearly, he had gotten all the sleep he needed. Then again, Alex needed very little. He pressed a kiss against his jaw and Graham hummed when Alex ran his fingers through his hair softly. 

"You're mucking up my sleep schedule," Graham complained groggily, his eyes fully opening and attempting to adjust to the darkness. It took him a moment until he could see a sliver of Alex's face through the thin line of daylight that peeked through the blackout curtains. 

"Like it was any better before," Alex teased with a grin. 

Graham shifted onto his back and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes. 

"I had the dream again," He muttered with a yawn.

"Did you?" Alex perked up. "Same river, same boy?"

"Yeah, except there was another boy this time."

"Did you get a good look at him?" 

Graham sighed, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to remember. 

"It's slipping away so fast, he had dark hair," He paused, rubbing this thumb against his bottom lip. He shifted his concentrated gaze towards Alex. "Sort of like yours. He had a walkman with him."

Alex smirked. "Well, that narrows it down." He commented jokingly.

"It's not much to go on, I know," Graham said as he sat up, pulling the covers off him. "You seen my briefs?"

"On the floor, though they might be a bit damaged from last night." Graham could hear the smile in Alex's answer even if he couldn't see it.

Graham got up from the bed and stretched his arms, stopping as he shivered due to the lack of adequate warmth in the room. He wrapped his hands around his body as he sped over the curtains, his hand fumbling against the wall until he found the cord. 

Graham scrunched his eyes as the room was filled with daylight, Alex stretching his arms above his head, his hair a pleasant mess. He looked great even disheveled. 

"Oh! There it is!" Alex pointed out his green briefs next to the discarded shirt and trousers.

Graham picked them up and poked a finger through the tear on the right side of his briefs and shook his head. 

"I knew I heard something rip when we were going at it." He said offhandedly, slipping on the briefs, elastic band slapping on his skin as he padded over to the nightstand to collect his glasses. 

"Send me the bill," Alex smiled shamelessly and got out of bed, his lanky and pale nude form stepping into his bathroom. 

Graham grabbed his clothes, taking longer to get dressed when he had to search for one of his socks that got lost underneath the bed. He slipped on his striped shirt as he sat on the bed, he felt the mattress sink slightly as Alex moved behind him, now dressed. He placed a kiss on the top of his head and rubbed his shoulders.

"Brunch?" Alex offered.

"I'll make coffee," Graham nodded and titled his head to kiss Alex to which he reciprocated softly.

They both went into the kitchen and prepared their first meal of the day, the coffee was ready before the food. Graham sipped at his mug as he pulled back the curtains, the living room becoming alive with daylight, he then padded over to Alex's music shelf. 

"Anything, in particular, you want to hear?"

"ABBA!" Alex's quick reply came from the kitchen. The smell of tomatoes and sausages cooking spread throughout the flat.

Graham groaned. "ABBA?" He repeated.

"Just joking with you, put on Duran Duran."

Graham reached for one of the records and stopped as he recalled the boy in the dream.

"The boy in the dream mentioned something about Duran Duran." Graham divulged.

"That so? You remember anything else?"

"No, not really."

Graham selected _Rio_ went to the table next to it, he slipped the record out of its sleeve and placed it onto the turntable. He adjusted the needle and watched the record spin and the music began to play. 

"Too upbeat for my taste," Graham commented as he walked back into the kitchen.

"Well, I don't normally listen to them around this time," Alex said at the stove as he cracked open an egg into a hole of a sizzling buttered toast. 

"What then? Pet Shop Boys?" Graham asked, opening the fridge and resisting the urge to swipe one of the many bottles of beer saved for the party. 

"I listen to Joy Division on my way to class," Alex replied, cracking open another egg and tossing the shell into the bin. "Though I do listen to them too."

Graham smirked. "Eggs in a nest and Joy Division is your way to start the day?"

"The best way to do it," Alex smiled, flipping over the toasts expertly with his spatula. 

Graham closed the fridge and pushed back Alex's unruly hair to press a kiss against his cheek.

"Happy birthday," He said quietly.

Alex turned to him and his smile softened, appearing almost shy with Graham's attention fully on him. Yet he was basking in it all the same.

"Thanks, gorgeous." He responded eventually, focusing back on the pan. "Now shoo, don't want to burn anything."

Graham chuckled and moved to get the plates from the cabinets, setting them down for Alex to place when he was finished. He headed back into the living room and sat down at Alex's small dining table. He looked aimlessly throughout the newspaper, going through small articles. One had caught his attention as he began to read.

_TWO UNIVERSITY STUDENTS INJURED IN BRUTAL MUGGING_

_Two students, one male, and a female who have requested to not disclose their identities were assaulted and robbed over the weekend. They were stabbed and cut by an unidentified male assailant that reportedly tried to write a message on the wall of an occult shop in the East End. The two students are in stable condition with non-life threatening injuries._

_Authorities believe this incident may be connected to last week's attack of a young man who was slashed, his blood was also being used to write a message which had appeared to be washed off when police arrived._

Graham held the newspaper with an iron grip as he reread the passage again. His eyes wide and a wave of unease washed over him. Thoughts of running in the dark, fast-paced footsteps hot after him as he tried to find safety. 

"Graham!" Alex's concerned voice brought him out of his memory. 

The taller man set their steaming plates of food down and he took Graham's face into his hands. 

"Graham, what is it? You look scared to death." He said, his face shaped into worry.

Graham gulped and lowered his eyes, Alex's thumb rubbing his cheek coaxing him to answer. He lifted up the newspaper for Alex to take. "T-The article about uni students."

Alex read the page steadily, his face turning to stone when he was done. 

"Graham, I know you think it's the lunatic."

"It is him, who the fuck else could it be?" Graham ranted nervously, "I knew he wasn't dead, bastard's still out there trying to off people!" 

"This could also be some terrible coincidence, there's been no sighting of him since that night," Alex attempted to calm him down. 

"Doesn't mean he's dead, he's not killing anyone probably 'cos he's being careful since there's more witches out every night," Graham responded, his panic dissipating, and fear took over. "He might find me again."

"He won't, he'll get caught or killed first before that ever happens," Alex cut in with a firm reassurance.

"But what if he does?" Graham whispered, his eyes meeting Alex's again.

"Then I'll finish what I started with that pile of shit," Alex lifted his head, declaring his promise.

Graham sighed, his nod slow and he rubbed one of his temples while he relaxed.

"Maybe I'm overreacting."

"You of all people Graham, have a right to overreact." Alex smiled sadly. 

Graham let out a bitter laugh. 

"Yeah, maybe so." He picked up his fork and pulled Alex's seat out for him. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Let's eat."

"Alright, but we'll talk later," Alex insisted as he sat down. "After the party."

"Who's coming again? Jarvis and a few of his friends, Dave, and his girlfriend, and who else?"

"Jamie and his girlfriend, Jane."

"Oh, I remember her." Graham grimaced, cutting into his egg's nest.

"I'm sure she won't mind seeing you, you just snogged her is all," Alex dismissed while pouring sugar in his coffee. "Noel and Liam said they would come after I promised there would be booze. Let's see if they show."

Graham raised his mug to his lips. "Did you invite Damon?"

"I did. Him and Justine." Alex said. 

"And?"

Alex shrugged. "I haven't heard from either of them. He probably won't show."

"Probably not." Graham sipped his coffee.

+

Graham was in the sanctuary of Alex's room when his guests started to arrive. Not being quite ready to greet people at the moment.

The truth was that he'd been already dressed about ten minutes ago but he had told Alex otherwise. Alex probably knew that he needed more time and let him have his space. He gave himself three more minutes to be hospitable. 

Laughter and conversation became more energetic and so far he couldn't decipher anyone's voice.

Jamie said he would make an appearance with his new girlfriend, Jane. Graham remembered that he chatted her up a while back and drunkenly snogged her at a club, that was about it really. He would try his best not to feel embarrassed. 

Two minutes to go.

Graham rose from Alex's bed; his movements slow, his thoughts elsewhere. He caught a glimpse of himself in the tall mirror adjacent to the black wooden dresser. He stepped closer and inspected the two healing bite marks on his neck again, even though he'd already done so several times tonight. 

The marks were still quite visible; Alex said they would go away in a couple of days. Visible enough for someone to notice they got close enough to him. Graham could only imagine how glaring they would be if he had bitten him this exact night.

The front door opened again from outside and he heard Dave's voice greet Alex and the others. More people to greet and be sociable around. One more minute.

_Fuck it, just go._

Graham fixed his hair one more time in the mirror and opened the door. 

In the living room, he saw some friends, Dave and his girlfriend were talking to Alex near the front door, Jarvis and a girl he didn't recognize was sitting on one of the couches, drinks in their hands and engaged in conversation. 

He waved at them out of politeness and went over to where Dave and Alex were, smiling as he was greeted by Dave and Paola. 

"Good to see you, Graham? You been well?" Dave smiled, patting his arm.

"As well as I can be," Graham smiled. 

"You enjoying your museum gig?"

"I'm enjoying the better pay." He smirked as he gained laughs from his little circle.

"That's the important thing!" Dave agreed.

Alex led them to the kitchen for drinks, five minutes Jamie and Jane arrived which Graham was sort of dreading as he greeted them at the door. Luckily, Jane didn't appear uncomfortable around him and even gave him a hug. She whispered congratulations in his ear.

"For what?" He whispered. 

"You got Alex eating from the palm of your hand, the bloke gave you Morrissey tickets. You know what he gave his last girlfriend? A broom!" She confessed.

Graham looked to Jamie for confirmation. He did with a barely suppressed grin and nodded.

"It's true," It was all he said before he went to greet the other guests with Jane. 

_Huh._

Alex received his presents and placed them in his living room closet to open later. Everyone dug into the snacks and drinks they laid out, talking about school, music, politics, and of course, witchcraft. Graham didn’t feel the need to add anything to that subject.

While Jarvis was in the middle of his story of how he tried to impress a girl by climbing her building, there was a knock on the door.

Jarvis' friend Candida got up to answer and Graham continued to listen to how Jarvis fell out of a window. He heard voices and turned to see who had arrived, it was the Gallagher brothers. The conversation behind them stopped and everyone started whispering. 

They were dressed in their parkas and they greeted Candida before walking to the living room. 

"Hello, lads!" Jarvis greeted them from the couch, "Come and have a drink with us."

"Jarvis, how you been mate?" Liam greeted back with a nod and smile. Noel and Liam shook hands briefly with everyone in the room, they stopped at Graham and Liam nodded at him. 

"Graham, you doing good? Last time I saw you were all banged up from that looney." Liam asked him unfiltered. 

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Graham shrugged. "Thanks to you lot and Alex."

"Thank our car, we didn't mean run over the fucker but we taught 'im a lesson, didn't we?" Noel smiled. "This tosser here did most of the work, I'll admit." He pointed at Alex sitting next to him. 

"Thanks, Noel." Alex chuckled shortly. "Drinks are in the kitchen."

"Got any lager?" Liam asked.

"Help yourself."

"Excellent." They both went into the kitchen and then there was another knock. 

Jamie went to open the door this time, a minute later Graham saw Brett to his surprise. He walked over and greeted everyone with a polite smile, dressed in a black leather jacket and tight black trousers. His usual wardrobe.

"Brett, drinks are in the kitchen!" Alex informed him. 

"Thanks, this is for you," Brett handed him a small gift-wrapped box and Alex thanked him. "Twenty-three, right?" 

"Yeah, but then again I could tell you I'm eighty and you'd never see the difference." Alex chided. 

"At least smoking won't kill you," Brett remarked with a wink and went into the kitchen, Noel, and Liam emerging with their lager.

"Right, what did we miss?" Noel said as he pulled up one of the metal chairs. 

"Not much, I was telling me story about how I was in that wheelchair for a few months," Jarvis said.

"You had to pretend to be in a wheelchair so people wouldn't get suspicious." Jamie corrected him as he lit up a cigarette. 

"I got turned only 'cos I wanted to show off in front of a girl," Jarvis shook his head and laughed. "How terrible is that?"

"I've heard more ridiculous things than that, trust me," Alex said as he took a swig of his beer. 

"Let's 'ave an arm wrestling match, me versus Jarvis!" Liam suggested.

"Liam, you can't be that drunk already." Jarvis poked fun. 

"I'll have a go," Jamie offered, the two of them getting on their knees at the coffee table, everyone around them laughing. 

Jamie won two of the three matches much to Liam's chagrin, Noel decided he wanted to go to humiliate his brother further.

Dave and Jamie fiddled around with the stereo and put on a mixtape, providing music for everyone to enjoy. Liam then pushed them aside saying it was shit and put on the Beatles mixtape that he had brought along. The pizza they ordered earlier arrived a few moments later and everyone began to eat, it was going quite well. Graham was slipping out of his comfort zone and he didn't even need booze to do so.

"Oh, did anyone read the news today?" Dave asked after chewing his slice.

"About the Uni students? Yeah, I did. That's dodgy." Jamie nodded.

"Do you think it's the madman?" Graham hesitantly asked.

"It can't be Jack the Ripper, now can it?" Jamie joked, finishing off his first slice.

Noel cleared his throat and set his empty plate on the table.

"Me and me brother almost ran into the lunatic a few nights ago." Liam commented.

The room went silent, Noel slapped the back of Liam's head. 

"Fuck was that for?!" Liam barked, giving Noel a rough smack on the arm. 

"I swear, you're dead from the neck up! They're not supposed to know yet!" Noel huffed, shaking his head in disapproval.

"You ran into him?!" Alex asked incredulously. 

"I said almost," Liam grumbled, rubbing his head as he scowled at Noel. "What does it matter? They were gonna find out this week anyway!" 

"Whatever, it's out in the open now," Noel dismissed with a brash wave of his hand. "There was a bloke that said he got attacked by a nutter with a knife using his blood to draw a message on the wall. Liam took a picture. Cleaned it off before anyone saw. "

"What did it say?" Jane asked.

"Somethin' 'bout a witch dying in March." Noel answered. "Straight to the point he is."

"That's quite vague," Dave said pointing out the obvious, "What's so special about March?"

"Ask the fuckin' loony, not me," Noel scoffed. 

Graham got up from the table, excusing himself to the kitchen. He needed a drink. 

He darted into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle and used the magnet that was also a bottle opener to twist it open. He gulped in his first taste of booze and sighed as he stopped. Turning to lean against the fridge, he realized Brett was sitting on the counter smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you," Graham excused. 

Brett shrugged and blew out smoke from the corner of his lips. 

"It's not my kitchen, you can do what you like." He said with a half-smile.

A moment of uncomfortable silence fell and Graham began to fidget.

"They talking 'bout the killer out there?" Brett asked.

"Yeah, not my favorite subject," Graham nodded and looked at the tile floor.

"I heard you almost died," Brett began, smoke escaping his lips again. "Is that true?"

"I did fight him off. He hasn't killed anyone after he tried to kill me." Graham took another swig of his beer.

"Lucky man." Brett smiled. 

A knock at the door caught his attention and he heard Alex announcing he'll get it, the door opened and came the sound of greetings. One voice stood out from the rest of them. 

_Fuck, he's here._

"Wonder who that could be?" Brett pondered out loud as he slid off the counter, Graham knew he was being sarcastic.

With a heavy sigh, he walked Brett out of the kitchen and back into the living room. There was Damon along with Justine, her friends Donna and Justin in tow with them as they said hello to everyone. 

As much as he hated to admit, Damon looked great. He wore a white jumper with some colorful stripes on the middle of the shirt and sleeves and his Nikes. He carried a wrapped rectangular present in his hands as he greeted Alex, Graham watched with interest the somewhat casual conversation between them. No hostility was seen which was a good sign. 

Then Damon looked over from where he and Brett stood and his expression changed completely. 

When Damon stared at him; there was no awkwardness, no judgment. Admiration and . . . eagerness? Like he had been waiting to see him. 

In Brett's case, the total opposite. Graham used to think the way Damon would look at Alex with anger was concerning. Now he would normally view him as some sort of way too affectionate pet. Damon looked at Brett with pure _loathing_ , it was like his mere existence was an insult to him. 

Graham stepped away from Brett and went near Alex, Damon's eyes most likely following him. He took Alex's hand and pulled him away from the chattering circle and whispered to him. 

"Damon looks like he wants to burn Brett alive."

"Oh he could, but Justine won't let him." Alex smiled impishly. "She's quite fond of him."

"You know it was a bad idea to invite them both," Graham scolded him.

"Damon's an adult, he'll deal with it." Alex cast his concern aside. 

"Right, I'll be back," Graham sighed and headed into his bedroom. All this excitement was getting to his head. He closed the door behind him and plopped down onto the bed.

He laid down and closed his eyes, letting his nerves calm down. 

How much time went by was unknown when the door opened and shut.

"I'm not asleep, Alex. I'm just resting my eyes." He mumbled.

"You're missing the party," Damon replied passively.

Graham opened his eyes and turned his head toward Damon, refusing to move right away.

"Why do you always show up when I want to be alone?"

"It's not good for you to be alone."

"For one fucking minute at the very least."

"Let me spare one minute of your time then," Damon requested as he approached. Graham turned his head to the pillows as he got closer. "I need to talk to you."

"Justine's waiting for you." Graham ignored his request.

"Graham, this is important," Damon continued, his impatience growing.

"Don't start with this again, Dames, Damon," He corrected himself quickly. 

Suddenly, his arms were yanked forward and he was made to move into a sitting position. Damon held his arms as Graham stared back in surprise and annoyance. 

"Gra," Damon said, speaking his nickname in a softer tone, his insistence leaking through his words. "I want to show you something."

Graham scanned his face and knew he had no choice but to listen, or else he would never hear the end of it. 

"Show me what?"

Damon let go of his arms and pulled out a polaroid from his jean pocket, giving it to him.

"Do you remember this photo?"

Graham held it to his face, his scrutiny turning into shock after a long second.

It all hit him at once. The tree, the field, the three boys smiling. One blonde, one brunette, the other timid amongst the wide grins. The boys in his dream, the one in the middle he never saw. 

Because the boy was himself. 

The room seemed to get brighter and the voices came back, thundering in his head. The images from the photograph buzzed all throughout every crevice. Stanway boys running past him. An empty theatre, the river again, a camera flashing. The boys from his dream smiling at him by the tree. The blonde placing a beaded necklace in his hands. The brunette holding an umbrella above him as they trudged along a muddy path.

Graham heard a fearful voice call out his name, his arms trembling as the polaroid fell from his hand. It was all so disorienting, he didn't know what was real and what wasn't. His body felt weightless and his mind felt heavy with something trying to burst out. 

Graham smelled iron and hands at his face as he saw Damon hovering above him, then came Alex along with others rushing in. The lights flickered as the panic increased.

Before he passed out, Graham had come to the realization that the dream was not a dream.

It was a memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for bearing with me, the next chapters are already in progress and I'll try to not take too long with the next one. I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading and for your patience! ♥
> 
> xoxo


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